The Ice Enchantress
by pensversusswords
Summary: They say she can freeze someone without even touching them, and that she carries a sword made of ice. She strikes terror into the hearts of all who encounter her. That's what they say about the Ice Enchantress, who lives in the shadows of the city streets of Arendelle. But when she saves Anna from a group of attackers, she sees something gentle and warm in the ice cold Elsa...
1. Prologue - Anna

**Prologue**

* * *

The streets are dark and shadowed, the night clinging to every shuttered window and closed door. The delicate beacons of candlelight that prick the darkness are few, and are no match for the faintly glowing ball that hangs suspended above the silent city, hushed in its slumber as it bathed the city in milky moonlight. The city had breathed out the final breath of daylight, and settled into the comfortable quiet of sleep.

That same moon watches over a lone figure that walks down one quiet street, a solitary woman with hair twisted into one long plait the colour of champagne, or liquid starlight, and eyes that had captured the essence of the fierce sea in their depths. A lone figure cloaked in darkness, unafraid by the terrors of nightfall. Each step is soft and light-footed, the movement of a swordswoman, through the snow that fell not too long ago. No one had walked on the street since then, and she loves the way it feels beneath the soles of her thick boots. It's not her snow, but she loves it all the same.

From the curve of her waist, a streak of ice glitters in the shape of a sword, straight and pointed so sharp that the whisper of it against one's skin could draw blood. The hilt is so expertly crafted in an elaborate design, that was created by the flurry of magic inside of her. It hangs valiantly at the side of its master, the sword she lovingly calls _odr-hrid_. Just from looking at her, one wouldn't know that she is overly cautious and keeps another dagger strapped to her ankle, this one forged of raw steel. She doesn't take any chances. In her mind, enemies could be anywhere.

She stops in the middle of the road, and looks up. Her face, one that had been called one of an angel as well as a cruel mercenary, shines with a glow akin to the pale moon that peers back down at her. She loves the moonlight because it reminds her of the glacial storm that is always bristling just under her skin. Cool, and enchanting. She wonders what the moon would look like if it were a glisten sphere of ice, instead of dead, unanimated rock. She imagines that it would be even more beautiful.

She looks down again, bringing herself back to earth. She begins to walk again. Slow. She has no destination. She doesn't know where she will go tonight, she figures she will stop when the desire strikes her.

The Ice Enchantress walks on through the night, not knowing what lies ahead of her. If she did, she would have ran in the other direction. But, as powerful as she is, the blizzard in her blood won't tell her where her fate lies, and so she goes on into the unknown.

* * *

**Chapter 1 - Anna**

* * *

If someone is running, it is because they are either running away from something, or towards something.

Right now, I was definitely running away from something.

City streets that are packed during the day with well wishing neighbours and pushy salespeople and excited children, become a menace to some when the daylight fades and the crowds disperse. As I'm running now, I find myself thinking that as the clock struck midnight to bid the day farewell, it is time for everyone to be inside with the doors locked and the shutters drawn. If I had done that I would not be in the middle of being pursued by three angry thugs who were most likely filled with lust and figured they could quench their thirst by catching up to me. Whether it was for my flesh or for the sum of money I had hidden in my cloak, I didn't want to stick around to find out.

My feet scuffed up clouds of the snow that had coated the streets earlier that evening, and I felt the flakes lodge themselves in uncomfortable clumps around the tops of my boots. If I managed to get out of this alive, I would have a cold walk home.

"Slow down little girl," a panting voice called out from behind me, a leer soaking his voice. I wanted to turn around and smack him for talking to me like that.

"Yeah, we just want to have a little fun!" a second oaf chimed in.

No time to react to it. Fear, anger... any emotion I was feeling right now had to be forgotten. I had to keep running.

_Faster, faster. _

It's funny how you don't know how fast you can run, until it's the only option.

Unfortunately, it wasn't fast enough - they were gaining on me. As I rounded a sharp corner and ducked into a dark alleyway, I could hear their heavy footsteps getting closer and closer. My skirts were holding me back, tangling around my legs and stifling their fury. I couldn't run fast enough. They were going to catch me.

_Faster. _

One of them laughed maniacally through heavy breaths, and the malicious sound made my stomach turn. They were so close now. I tried to run faster, but my feet wouldn't obey my brain, they were already flying across the whitened cobblestones like gravity wasn't an issue for them.

A hand grabbed my hair, and I whimpered in pain. My body jerked to a stop and my feet flew out from underneath me, as my attacker roughly threw me against a nearby wall. My knee knocked the ground with a crack and I thought for a brief moment about how that was going to leave a huge bruise. Then my attention turned to the three hulking figures that were hovering over me.

Their smiles were menacing and cold as they glared down at me, their smirks wide across their faces as they sneered.

"You're a pretty one," the tallest one cackled, nudging a pudgier and shorter one to his left that looked just as disgusting. He nodded, and they all came closer.

I was weighing my options at this point. I could either fight them as bravely as I could, while knowing that I would be injured in the process, or I could run again and hope that I managed to get out of this mess in one piece. Fighting them would definitely end in injuries, but running might end worse.

The third one, a brawny man whose height stood in the middle of the other two, reached out with long bony fingers and grabbed my cheeks with one hand, and leaned in really close. His foul breath washed over me and I fought the urge to gag at the rancid smell. It was awful.

"Got any money, sweetheart?"

I was about to answer with something less than respectful, when a fourth, unnoticed person cleared their throat behind the three assailants.

"I'll give you three seconds to draw your weapons," a female voice said, in a semi annoyed, semi angry voice. I peered around the legs of man number three to see who was the addition to this little spectacle. A form shrouded by a hooded cloak stood there, one hand resting on a magnificent sword that hung at her waist - _how_ on earth was it glittering like that - and a flyaway wisp of blonde hair sneaking out from beneath the cloak.

"Listen, go on your way alright? This is none of your business." The tall one was not concerned with this interruption. His eyes bored down into me. I glared back at him through eyes that were shrunk into tiny slits.

"One," she counted. The sword was in her hand, shimmering like a lightning bolt.

"It's the Ice Enchantress," the pudgy one gasped, nudging medium height guy sharply, who responded with an irritated shove. I'd never heard of the Ice Enchantress before, but the way that the three of them reacted made me think that it was probably a big deal, because instantly all of them had their weapons drawn and were crouching in front of her, ready to fight.

"Ah," she said, pushing her hood back to reveal the rest of that blonde hair that was tied into a messy braid, and blue eyes that danced as they flicked between the three men. "Now we're ready."

I felt a sinking feeling sit in my throat. They were going to hurt this woman, there was only one of her and three of them.

"Don't! I'll be fine, just run," I shout, waving one hand wildly to tell her that it was okay for her to go, there was still time. She didn't pay any attention.

"Wouldn't it be a pleasure to run you through, Ice Enchantress," one of the vile men sneered.

She smiled so quickly I almost missed the flash of her snow white teeth against her pale face. "I assure you, the pleasure is not yours."

Then the fight began.

The woman flew at them with her sword raised, and began to immediately hack at them with wide, calculated strokes. Her feet stepped lightly as she avoided each thrust of their swords, leaping gracefully out of reach every time one of them tried to stab at her. They swung at her wildly like they were in a ring with a wild animal, and she danced as though she were the star in an elegant ballet. They were fury and she was calm.

Each of their advances were blocked by her sword, the shimmering sword glinting in the faint moonlight. Each of her movements flowed like the path of water down a river. The intricate steps she made with her footwork were the result of training and experience, while the men were probably drunk and knew nothing more than simple moves. This woman was clearly a real fighter; one who had seen real battle and real blood, not the frightened screams of innocent citizens in alleys after midnight.

The tall man went for a blow to her stomach, but he didn't even get close. She spun out of his reach and rewarded him with a knick on the shoulder for that attempt. He gasped in pain and stumbled backwards, crimson blood staining the snow at his feet.

She knocked the short, squat man onto his behind by knocking him square in the chest with a high kick that connected her foot with his chest, and he landed with a thump and a loud gasp of air. He sat there winded and dazed, as if he wasn't sure what was happening. I saw my opportunity to help, and I scoped the area for a weapon of sorts to attack him while he was still incapacitated. I found a decently sized rock nearby and quickly crawled over it, ignoring the sharp protest that my knee made when I put pressure on it. I grabbed the rock and threw it, as hard as I could. It hit his head with a hollow crack, and he fell forward, grasping the spot where it hit.

"_Yes_," I murmured triumphantly under my breath, and after a moment of pride, I turned around to watch the scene unfolding.

The woman was evading each of the remaining men's attacks while still finding time to parry, and then lunge forward to pierce their skin with her sword. She hardly looked tired at all, while they looked like they were drenched in sweat and their breath was laboured. My worry for her started to fade away in that moment, as I noticed the way the snarky arrogance in their eyes was slowly fading to thinly veiled fear. She could beat them.

Her face was almost closing off into boredom by this point, as she blocked, lunged, stepped back and repeated. Their moves were predictable and she was paying attention to their every step, reciprocating with the appropriate manoeuvre. She still looked unruffled by their attack, fighting on as if it were as easy for her as breathing.

I saw something change in her eyes then though, as one of them took a deliberate swing at her neck. It was a look that screamed that this had to end now.

With a flurry of her blade, her footsteps picked up speed. She sidestepped and spun elegantly, her pace quickening as she swung her sword with perfect precision. A moment, two maybe, and they were both on the ground, groaning and clutching their wounds.

I stared at the scene before me; blonde haired warrior pushing back her bangs away from her eyes as she returned her weapon to her waist; three men bleeding on the ground where she had put them.

Five minutes ago, I though these men were going to _kill_ me.

The shock of it all was making my hands shake, and I buried them in my skirts to try and hide it.

The woman, the Ice Enchantress they'd called her, was looking at me with a wary expression in her azure eyes, as if she was expecting me to spring up and attack her as well, even though she had just saved me. Her lips were pursed and her arms crossed over her chest, her unwavering stare trained upon me.

_Say something Anna._

"Right!" I exclaimed and clambered to my feet, brushing off the clumps of snow that were clinging to me. I hadn't noticed in all of the excitement how cold the ground was.

I gave the moaning men a once over before I stepped forward and met the Ice Enchantress's gaze, a grateful smile pulling at my lips.

"Thank you for rescuing me! I'm Anna."


	2. Elsa

Chapter 2 - Elsa

* * *

Eye contact can be so alarming sometimes.

Some have said that eyes are windows to the soul, and I definitely believe them. But for someone, like me, who wanted to keep those windows tightly shut to the outside world, there's something so personal, so inescapable, about the way someone looks at you and holds your attention in their gaze. For some it can be assertive, comforting, loving, threatening.

But the way she was looking at me just made me feel strange. With unabashed gratitude and relief, her face was shining with something that reminded me of admiration, but I couldn't imagine that such an emotion was directed at me. She was just glad that I had saved her life. Her stare was so intent, so focused on me with those fiery sapphire spheres, that even though I wanted to squirm and look away, I found myself staring back.

When I'd seen that pretty, freckled redhead dashing away from a trio of despicable louts, I hadn't even paused for a moment before running after them to save her. Normally I kept out of people's way, hidden out of sight, but I couldn't stand idly by while innocent citizens were terrorized.

I wasn't ready for the way the girl, who I had just learned was named Anna, was looking at me expectantly, waiting for me to respond to her gratitude.

She was staring at me with a timid grin, her hands clenched in front of her. I was surprised at the way the fear had seemed to fall away from her face as relief washed over her, even though just a few minutes ago she was moments away from being attacked by three reckless thugs.

"You're welcome," I said coolly, my voice guarded.

That, however, did not curb her enthusiasm. "I mean, you were absolutely amazing... They didn't have a chance against you!" she exclaimed, her eyes wide. "How did you do that?"

I felt an urge to laugh shortly at this question. This seemingly sweet girl didn't want to hear about my rather unsavory way of receiving my training, the way I knew how to wield my weapon so expertly. A sell sword, a mercenary by nature, I'd learned my tricks from a few questionable sources, and I'd learned them for even less desirable reasons.

"I was taught well," I said curtly, finally turning away from her inquisitive eyes and giving my attention to the injured laying at our feet. One of them was unconscious, the other two were glaring up at me with barefaced hatred. I could practically see the anger filled shame burning behind their eyes, horrified that they had fallen victim to the infamous Ice Enchantress, who roamed the streets, unwillingly striking fear into all those she came across.

Ignoring the flicker of rage that shivered in my stomach, I raised one hand, spreading my fingers wide and calling on the coldness that lay waiting in my core, and cast a spell of simple magic over the three of them, a shroud of ice falling over them as they stared up at me, sputtering out incoherent words of fear. I felt my magic swirl out of me in a gentle wave, as it grasped each of them with its icy appendages. Their expressions froze in their looks of spite and rage, their trembling limbs stilled by my enchantment. Frost coated their skin as the magic took hold, freezing them over and holding them tightly in stasis. They were incapacitated, useless.

"Whoa," Anna breathed beside me, staring down at what I'd done with amazement. She looked up at me with that disconcerting expression again, eyes boring into me. "Did you kill them?" She didn't sound overly concerned, just curious.

I frowned at her question, surprised that her first question hadn't been how I had done it, but about whether or not I had stopped their hearts.

_Don't be surprised, she's probably heard all about your sorcery if she's in this town. _

"No," I admitted after a short pause, staring down at the man closest to me. There were reddish ice crystals forming around a wound I had bestowed upon him on his arm. They glittered crimson in the illumination of faint torchlight. "I just... well it's hard to explain. I guess I just put them to sleep. In a way."

"Oh," she said softly, nodding her head knowingly, as if she was well rounded on the topic of the inner workings of magic. It was endearing in away, her open hearted acceptance of it. I found myself appreciating it. I didn't often get that kind of reaction.

She shivered and pulled her cloak tighter around herself as a gust of cold wind swept around us, rustling the reddish strands of hair that unravelled from the two braids that hung on either side of her face.

"Brrr," she said with an animated tremor and a forced smile in my direction, raising her hands to rub her arms roughly, dancing from one foot to the other as she tried to return some heat to her body. Her thin cloak wasn't much against the coldness of the winter night. It was crisp and pristine, just the way winter was expected to be. "It's cold out tonight, isn't it?" she laughed softly, as if she was trying to cover up her fairly obvious discomfort.

Immediately I reached up and unclasped my thick cloak from around my shoulders, swinging it off my back and holding the thick fabric in my hands as I stepped forward. "Here," I said abruptly, thrusting it towards her.

She shook her head," Oh no, I couldn't!"

"Yes, you can. You're freezing, and I don't need it." I really didn't need it. I relished the cold, it never bothered me because I was always freezing. I wore the cloak so I wouldn't draw so much attention to myself. It was a shield from probing eyes, not from the cool breeze.

"Are you sure?" she asked through chattering teeth, her face pinched with a mixture of cold and concern as she eyed my offering. She looked like she felt guilty for wanting it, but at the same time she wanted its warmth.

Instead of answering her and risking her getting even more cold, I just stepped around her and stood at her back, before throwing the cloak over her shoulders. Her hands reached up to fasten the clasp as her face relaxed into gratitude, but my hands were already there, securing it around her neck.

I noticed a faint spattering of freckles just beyond the crease where her shoulder and her neck met in a smooth curve of fair skin. They looked like tiny little stars that someone had sprinkled on her skin.

I decided then that I loved freckles.

"Thank you," she murmured, interrupting my thoughts with a little smile over her shoulder, and huddled into its warmth. One hand came up to tuck a lock of that mussed hair behind her ear as she looked away from me shyly, her eyes downcast. I cleared my throat as I stepped away from her.

"Where do you live? I'll take you there."

"Oh no, it's fine, I can walk myself!" she looked up and exclaimed adamantly, declining my offer, but I was already shaking my head.

"I wouldn't be able to live with myself if you got hurt and I just let you go on your own," I countermanded firmly. There was no way I was letting her go by herself, freezing and alone.

She glanced up sharply, a frown wrinkling her forehead.

"I'm not a child," she whispered. She bit her lip and her eyes flicked to the ground as she shuffled her feet and looked back at me.

_Shit._

I'd offended her. She'd thought I was patronizing her, acting like she was weak and incapable of taking care of herself.

"I didn't mean it like that," I said abruptly, back peddling and smoothing my face over into a stoic countenance. I didn't want her to see my momentary confusion at unintentionally seeming condescending. I truly hadn't intended to offend her. "I just would feel better if I knew you were home safe... finish the job, you know?"

She looked at me quizzically, her head slightly to the side. The slight flash of discontent that had sparked across her face a moment before was fading as she studied me. She was examining my face, her eyes exploring me like she was trying to figure out what I was thinking. I could practically see the gears turning in her head as she looked at me with a inquisitive expression on her pretty face.

It seemed like minutes before she finally sighed softly and nodded her head in consent. "It's far though," she said doubtfully, as if that might change my mind. "I don't live in town."

"That's fine," I assured her."Lead the way."

"Wait!" She turned around to gesture to the men who were still lying in dishonourable heaps in the alley. "What about them?"

_Right. Those fools,_ I thought grimly as I felt my lips press together into a thin line of distaste. "I'll take care of them later," I said dismissively, indicating in my tone that I wasn't going to say any more on that. I didn't care to share what I meant by that. "Let's go."

* * *

"Why did those men hate you so much?"

The question caught me off guard, and I just stared at her with a perplexed expression as I struggled to find an answer. It was then that I realized that she must have never heard the talk that buzzed through the townsfolk about me.

When she'd said that she lived far away, I hadn't expected her to lead me straight out of the city limits and onto the country road that wound into the quieter region of the area. We walked in silence, me striding an arm's length away from her as we trudged through the darkness. I could tell that the snow was clinging to the hem of her skirts, the forest green fabric encrusted with a thin layer of clumps of ice and snow. I imagined that she was cold, but I didn't say anything. I wasn't really adept at figuring out ways to keep someone warm.

Now we had stopped, and were standing at the gate of a mansion that stood at the top of a hill, overlooking the grounds below with all of its grandeur. It was hard to see it in the dim lighting, but I could tell that there was a long walkway that was flanked on either side with enormous evergreen trees, that led up to the house that was made of pale stones, alight but the torches that adorned the outer walls. Snow was where it had fallen and grasped the hardness of the bricks, framing the glittering icicles that made the roof look like it was reaching for the ground with its icy fingers. It was the home of someone rich. Incredibly rich. It was practically a palace.

I couldn't help but wonder why a girl like her was wandering around the city in the middle of the night.

"I suppose they've heard rumours about me," I finally answered in a tight voice.

"What kind of rumours?" she inquired, peering at me intently from underneath a veil of thick eyelashes.

"Well, you saw what I could do," I said wryly.

"Yes," she agreed with a tiny nod, and hunched her shoulders underneath her borrowed cloak. "I don't see why that would make anyone hate you, though."

"People tell... less than pleasant stories about me sometimes," I admitted in a strained voice. "The terrifying woman who can sprout ice and snow from her hands." I was unable to keep the coldness out of my tone. It was more than sometimes. I couldn't go anywhere without everyone glaring and backing away from me in fear. Stay away from her, she's dangerous, they would say. She could kill you without even touching you.

"Are the stories true?" she asked in that same gentle voice, her curiosity not waning even though I was sure that I didn't exactly seem like I wanted to participate in this conversation.

So many questions. I stepped closer to her stared into her eyes, my own narrowing as I spoke lowly. "Some of them, maybe. People like to talk, and they like to put their own spin on things until no one knows what the truth is any more. And so they hate me."

"They fear you," she responded in a hushed tone, her breath leaving her lips in a frosty cloud. She was frowning slightly, concern colouring her expression. "The Ice Enchantress. People fall to fear quicker than understanding."

"Yes," I answered, in the same soft voice. "They do."

She just nodded, and bit her lip. She looked thoughtful for a moment, her face creasing in deliberation. Her face was illuminated by the faint moonlight, and I noticed a tiny line that appeared as she made that face, right at the corner of her lip. A frown line.

"I don't fear you," she declared as I shifted my eyes from that tiny crease to meet hers. A smile was playing around her eyes, a tiny sparkle of bemusement glimmering there.

"Are you sure that's wise? You don't know me," I said cautiously. She had no reason to trust me, for all she knew, I was just as vile as the men I'd saved her from. Except I could be worse, because I was the creature that froze things with her hands, the one who people cowered from in fear.

Her face lit up with a smile then, and she giggled quietly behind her pale, thin hand. They were tiny, almost childlike, and wavering with cold. But I only noticed that for a moment, because the laugh she emitted was musical and lilting, capturing my attention. A strange thought crossed my mind for a moment that I wouldn't mind listening to it for a while longer.

"I can just tell," she laughed, as if the thought made amusement bubble out of her uncontrollably. "You're not scary at all."

And with that, reached over to curl her bare fingers around my forearm, and she leaned forward and pressed her soft lips lightly against my cheek, the warmth spreading from the spot of contact of skin on skin. She was so warm, I could feel it radiating through my sleeve where her hand was touching me. She must have felt the coldness of my skin, even though her lips only lingered there for a brief moment.

"Thank you," she whispered as she drew away. "You saved me. I am forever in your debt."

I froze in shock. It was a courteous gesture, something someone of high status, which she clearly was judging by the glamour of her home, would do on a regular basis. However I was so unaccustomed to being touched at all, that for some reason it was sending a shiver up my spine. The feeling of her flesh on mine was foreign, but she couldn't have known how strange it felt for me because it was probably such a normal gesture of gratitude to her. And yet, here I stood. Stunned and silent. Like a fool.

"Anyone would've done the same," I stated in a rigid voice after an uncomfortable moment of silence, arranging my features into an expressionless state.

"Mmm," she murmured in agreement, smiling gently. "Some would. But you're the one who did."

With that, she looked down and undid the clasp of my cloak and took it off, before reaching over and slinging it over my shoulders and fastening it around my neck, her deft fingers working swiftly at the buttons there, securing them before backing away slightly.

"Thank you for saving me," she whispered sincerely, that smile sparkling in her eyes and pulling at the corners of her lips. I nodded curtly, still slightly dazed.

She turned around and reached under the neckline of her dress to pull out an ornate key that hung on a silver chain, and began to fiddle with the lock on the gate. She shoved the key in, metal on metal screeching as it fitted together to unlock the gate with a faint click.

She pulled it open with a clattering clank, and stepped through, stepping lightly across the untouched blanket of snow on the ground, her fingers dislodging flakes that had stuck to the gate. They floated delicately to the ground, swirling around her swishing skirts as she walked.

Before disappearing into the vast courtyard, she looked at me over her shoulder, still smiling, a question trembling on her lips.

"I never got your real name, _Ice Enchantress_." A statement that dripped with desire for an answer for the implied question.

I unconsciously had raised one hand to press my fingers against the spot on my face where she had kissed my cheek, and I shook myself when I realized, dropping my hand to my side immediately. I coughed lightly, meeting her gaze with something fluttering in my stomach - was I... _nervous_?

"Elsa," I replied, my voice sounding strange and twisted. I swallowed hard. "My name is Elsa."

"Elsa," she repeated, breathing out the syllables of my name into the crisp silence that hung around us. "I think I like that better. Good night, Elsa."

* * *

**A/N:** Wow, over 30 followers from just one chapter? That's crazy! Thanks for reading, and reviewing, and following... Hope you liked this chapter !

P.S. I'll be updating this story on Sundays and Wednesdays :)... unless I have some time and I can throw in an extra chapter.


	3. Anna - The Wild Girl

Chapter 3 - Anna

The Wild Girl

* * *

I crept through the dark hallway, my bare feet gliding quietly over the floorboards as I tried my hardest to keep quiet. I still felt shivers running through my body, despite the generosity of my saviour. Her cloak hadn't been able to warm me too much, it just warded off any more cold that tried to clutch at my skin. Now, I felt it in my bones, quivering in every movement.

I raised my heels and expertly picked my way across the floor, carefully. This old, worn hallway was so familiar to my feet that I knew exactly where each of my footsteps should fall. Sneaking around took practice, and time to learn which boards creaked and which were still silent. The low screeching of the old wood moaning could wake someone, and at this hour, I wanted to avoid that. The reaction would most likely not be pretty.

"Anna?"

_Shit._

That was not a voice I wanted to hear. I sighed heavily in defeat and turned around slowly, my face already rearranging into an apologetic expression.

"Before you say anything, I'm really -"

My voice was cut off when I suddenly felt myself engulfed by a warm embrace, thick cloth smothering my vision and momentarily choking my breath as I found myself drowning in fabric and human warmth. My breath escaped my in a gasping _oof _as I crashed forward, caught by strong arms and a broad chest.

"-sorry," I finished, still slightly breathless, my voice muffled into a familiar shoulder.

"Anna you _scared _me," my uncle's voice boomed above me angrily, but he was betrayed by a slight crack in his voice as it skipped on the last word. He hugged me tighter, and I could practically feel the fading worry and flooding relief wafting off of him in waves.

"I wasn't even gone that long, Uncle," I protested, trying to push away so that I could look him in the face, but he didn't loosen his grip around my shoulders.

"It's hours past midnight, Anna! Why do you keep doing this to me?" he sighed, and I could feel his body shake as his head moved back in forth in disbelief. "You could have been hurt."

"I was fine!" I lied, my voice pitching up a few octaves on the fib, but thankfully I didn't think he noticed since my face was still pressed against his shoulder. I grimaced at the thought of what had almost happened to me earlier. There was no way I wanted him to know about that.

Finally he released me, and I stumbled backwards a few paces. He glowered down at me, his brow furrowed and his mouth betraying his exasperation at my antics.

"Go into my study, I'll get you something hot to drink and send someone out to fetch the guards I sent out to look for you," he commanded in a gentle tone, only a bit of his frustration seeping into his voice. "I'll be in soon, and we can talk."

"Actually," I began to protest, feeling myself fidget with nervousness underneath his stare, "I'm pretty tired..."

"Anna," he admonished in a harder voice, his eyes narrowing slightly. "Please."

I bit back a sigh, and tucked my hands into the folds of my skirt. "Okay, fine."

He patted my shoulder lightly, and with a satisfied nod he turned around; his great dressing gown trailing behind him in the dim torchlight that glimmered in the hallway. I watched him leave, until he rounded the corner, before making my way into the other direction and ducking into his study.

The room was completely dark, and I immediately fumbled around in the blackened space for the desk, my fingers searching for a match. My hands brushed across a pile of papers, a hard object I couldn't make out, an ashtray... _ah! There it is._ I grasped the tiny box, the thin metal rattling as I struggled to open it. When I found the clasp, it popped open with a tiny click, and I struck the match. I lit the nearest cluster of candles that sat on the desk and then the ones on the windowsill, illuminating room in the faint light.

I loved my Uncle's study. Every nook and cranny had been explored by my tiny, grubby fingers as a young child, curiosity striking me to crawl underneath my Uncle's feet as he pored over papers and books at his mahogany desk. I'd found all the best hiding places in the room; underneath that table in the corner, that little alcove beneath the window, the space behind the bookcase. It was my favourite room in the whole house, because it reminded me of my Uncle. It smelled like tobacco and old books; a smell that lingered around him like an aura where ever he walked. It was as if he was the embodiment of the room, in a way; creased pages of the books that lined the walls mimicked the kind expression he always wore that made tiny fine lines crease around his eyes. His voice was as daunting and captivating as narration of the stories I read in the books he put in there specifically for me.

The high ceiling captured the candle light, and the painting that spanned the entirety of the ceiling stared down at me through a veil of worn, peeling paint. A picturesque piece of artwork that depicted the rolling hills and mountains that held in their midst the grand royal city of Arendelle. The royal palace stood valiantly in the middle of the painting, overlooking the city from the edge, nestled with its back against the fjords. As a child I would spend hours staring up at the picture, wishing that I could be there, in the hustle and bustle of the city, the fresh air that blew down from the mountains filling my lungs. I'd thought that maybe if I could go there, I would even catch a glimpse of the King and Queen. I yearned to go there, to see the royal city in all of its magnificence.

My lips turned up and I scoffed quietly in self inflicted amusement. My yearning for the city life hadn't seemed to fade with time, judging by the vast number of times that I'd snuck off in the middle of the night to roam the nearby city. Subpar to the capital of Arendelle, I imagined, and yet thrilling and exciting all the same.

The sound of the door creaking open, followed by footsteps and the door slamming closed snapped me out of my thoughts. Uncle was entering the room, a candlestick shining in one hand, a cup of something steaming hot in the other. A fuchsia coloured cloak was draped over one arm, one that I recognized from my closet. He handed the cup to me, and I grasped it in both of my hands, the warmth from the ornate teacup absorbing into my body, chasing away the cold. He tenderly slung the cloak around my shoulders, and I released one hand to grasp it and pull it tightly around me. He smiled at me in approval, and made his way over to his chair, as I sank into the cushions of one across from him. I burrowed down into the softness, until I was comfortable, while he watched me with one eyebrow raised.

"Comfortable?" he asked, his voice only slightly sarcastic. I only smiled at him for an answer, settling back into my seat and waiting for him to speak.

He waited for a moment, before dropping the inevitable accusation that I knew was coming. I braced myself.

"You can't keep disappearing in the middle of the night Anna. It's too dangerous."

I sighed in annoyance, taking a sip of tea - strong liquid that was both spicy and earthy - before responding. "I think you need to loosen up, Uncle. I'm old enough to not _need_ to sneak out in the first place."

"You're also old enough to know that you're not able to protect yourself!"

I flinched at that, and felt a sliver of distaste rising in my throat. I swallowed it along with the burning tea, knowing to would do not good to retort back. "I can protect myself," I murmured quietly.

He was silent for a few moments, staring at me with a perplexed expression clouding his features. I wrapped my cloak tighter around me.

"Why do you like going there anyways? It's so nice and peaceful here," he asked, confusion lilting in his tone as he gestured to the blackened window.

I shrugged. "I love the house and the quiet here, Uncle, you know that. But I want to be out there, with_ people_."

He sighed loudly and flopped back in his chair, petulant frustration in his eyes. I drew my knees up and tucked my feet underneath me, trying to conserve my warmth. I hadn't realized_ just_ how cold I was until now, when the warmth of my hot drink was attacking the chill as it spread throughout my body.

We stared at each other, unblinkingly, until I spoke.

"I'll stop sneaking out when you stop insisting that I stay here all the time."

He leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees and his head drooping ever so slightly in what could have been defeat. His voice was tight when he responded. "You've always been a wild and deviant girl, too spirited for your own good. And you're sure nothing went wrong tonight?"

I took a deep breath in, my mind running through the events of the evening. I'd spent the most of it in a crowded tavern, raucous laughter and frivolity filling the room with drunken banter. I'd spent my evening at a table tucking in the corner of the establishment, nursing a mug of ale in front of me as I joked and laughed with a group of friends I visited every so often when I managed to get into the city. We sat there until the ale was gone and the jokes grew farther and father apart, and moved on, dispersing out into the night under the stars until all of my companions faded into the darkness, leaving me on my own to roam the streets.

Then, I'd ran into those three foul men.

_That_ part he didn't need to know about.

I cleared my throat before responding. "Yes of course. I just met up with friends."

Was my voice too high? I couldn't tell.

He looked up sharply, his brows coming together in a hard line. "You're lying. What happened?"

_Shit. _

"Nothing!"

"You're lying, Anna!"

_Shit, shit, shit. _

"I know when you're lying, Anna. Tell me the truth, did something happen tonight?"

I dropped my head into my hand, and groaned. There was no getting out of this now. I felt the pressure of an unpleasant conversation brewing.

"I might have been attacked," I said slowly, enunciating every syllable, the words tasting wrong on my tongue. I wanted to snatch them back as soon as they left my lips, but they were already out in the open, hovering like a rancid smell in the air.

"Anna!" he thundered almost as soon as the words left my mouth, leaping to his feet and beginning to pace up and down the room, his hands clenched behind his back. "How could you be so stupid?"

"Look, it doesn't matter-"

"It doesn't _matter_?" he interrupted, his voice steeped in fury. "You could've been hurt!"

"Yes, but someone saved me." My voice was calm, regulated. I wanted to alleviate the situation as much as possible.

"Who saved you?" he demanded, not pausing his frantic pacing.

My mind flashed back to those blue eyes, that fierce woman with the sword of ice. A strange flutter skittered across my skin as I recalled that flyaway wisp of blonde hair that framed her stern, expressionless face, and the faint glitter I had seen spark in her eyes when I thanked her at the gate.

Her skin had been as cold as the snow that was piled at her feet; cold and smooth. I'd almost wanted to touch it for a moment longer. It was as elegant and enchanting as the essence that surrounded her. Her grace, the way she moved like she was the essence of fluidity, was so captivating. I could've watched her fight all night, because she made it look like a dance. A dangerous, fiercely beautiful waltz across the ice and snow.

I wondered if I'd ever see her again.

No time to think about that now. Uncle was waiting impatiently for me to respond.

"This woman-"

"A woman?" he repeated, falling back into his chair and held my eyes in his gaze. "She saved you?"

I nodded an affirmative.

His eyes were practically slits as he studied me with a hard expression, emotion bursting at the seams and threatening to rupture in a messy explosion all around us. "Tell me what happened."

* * *

The Ice Enchantress is a storm waiting to erupt. She is the calm before the blizzard, and the wrath of the glacial hurricane that sweeps with power and glory.

She makes her way across the pristine whiteness that has cloaked the countryside, hiding any evidence of green beneath a blanket of blankness. She steps carefully, filling every footstep behind her with a flicker of her magic, brushing any evidence away that she had ever tread across the deserted path.

The moon watches over her back now, caressing her form that is covered in her thick cloak, her head shrouded in her hood. It creeps its ghostly fingers over her shoulders, caresses her with gentle whispers against her skin, and yet she walks on. She does not stop.

That mansion fades into the background behind her, sinking deeper into the abyss of darkness with each step she takes. Its formidable turrets and marble pillars slowly slip into this daunting thing we humans call memory, the kind of thing she avoids. The girl that disappeared into its depths fades into this state of remembering as well. Despite her wishes, the flash of that red hair sparks through, those intensive eyes burning through the shroud she casts over the dusty boxes of discarded memories she keeps in a cluttered corner in the back of her mind. This memory, the one called Anna, the ice cold sorceress dresses in the sound of musical laughter and soft skin. This memory refuses to be boxed up and shoved into a darkened corner. She dances around every memory, her eyes laughing as she escapes the Ice Enchantress's efforts to push her away.

The woman who has ice running in her veins, and has never felt discomfort from the cold shivers when she remembers the way her name felt as it left the girl's lips and clutched at her ears.

_Elsa_

It's a whisper, and it trails through her body, trembling against her nerves and shimmering in a cloud in her stomach.

She wonders for a moment what Anna's name would taste like on her tongue. She imagines it would be sweet, yet exploding with vigor.

She doesn't say it out loud though, because she worries she might get addicted to the flavour of her name, and she might crave it so much that she wouldn't be able to resist running back for the real thing. So she just thinks it; over and over, turning it around in her mind, twining it around the vivid memory that is the vivacious, freckled young woman.

_Anna. _

_Anna._

_Anna._

She keeps on, no trail forming behind her as she walks.

The memories chase her, and after a while, she lets them.

* * *

**A/N: **Well hello to all of you lovely people who are following/favouriting/reviewing this story (so many of you omg)! I hope you're willing to stick around for the full ride because I've got some exciting (I hope) stuff waiting for you. Thanks so much for reading :).


	4. Elsa - A Heart Full of Anna

A/N: Almost 100 follows? Uh... thanks :). Here's an extra chapter, next update on Saturday.

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Chapter 4 - Elsa

A Heart Full of Anna

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**_One week later..._**

Although I rarely partook in the rather frivolous activity of drinking, the numbness that came from ingesting flaming liquid seemed to appeal to me tonight.

I flopped down into the barstool with a soft thump, resting my hands down on the counter. My sword clanked against the stool, making a strange clattering noise of ice on wood, that pierced the buzz of laughter and chatter that hummed around me, augmented by the clinking of glasses and screeching of chair legs against the floor. I shifted in my seat as I called out to the bartender, my voice low and authoritative, not bothering to push my hood back away from my eyes.

"Something strong please, sir."

The scrawny looking man slid across the bar to look down at me, a man who looked to be ten years my senior, with gnarled, rotting teeth and a layer of unseemly scruff coating his cheeks. "Any preferences, love?"

"No," I said shortly, and he just grunted in reply, before reaching over to fill a glass with a brownish liquid. He set it down one the counter and slid it over. I caught it with my right hand, and a tiny splash of the drink splashed onto my arm. I could smell the harsh scent of the alcohol wafting up to flame against the inside of my nose.

I lifted the glass and threw my head back as I drank, ignoring the burning protest in my throat, until the last drop had disappeared into my mouth.

"Whoa there, slow down!" the bartended exclaimed with a chuckle as I slammed the glass down and gestured for another. He obliged, and I down that one even quicker than the first.

He was watching me as I drank through squinted, curious eyes as he rubbed a glass dry with a tattered dish rag. I just knew he was going to say something, ask me questions about what was wrong with me. It was only a matter of time. I probably looked as weary and strung out as I felt.

I saw his mouth open, and his eyes dart away from me and back, and I braced myself. I glanced down and set my mouth, burrowing myself further beneath my hood.

"What's eatin' at you, sugar?" I flinched at the second endearment to escape him since I'd sat down. I wasn't comfortable with that kind of familiarity from someone I didn't know.

I didn't answer, partly because I didn't want to speak to him, and also partly because I wasn't really sure. There was this kind of ache inside my gut, and it had persistently been pressing against my insides for the past week. It felt like a strange ball of strange sadness and nervousness, but I had no idea what was causing it.

If I'd wanted to talk about it, I wouldn't have been able to.

"Might feel good to talk about it," he pressed on, clearly ignorant to my guarded tone, or didn't care, glasses clinking together loudly in his fingertips as he threw them into a tub of soapy water.

I wanted to tell him to be quiet, that I wasn't buying into the fallacy of pouring my heart out to a stranger simply because he stood behind a bar and served me liquid honesty. I wanted to tell him that I had enough running through my mind at the moment, and I didn't want to listen to his talking on top of it, pushing away his invasive advances.

But I didn't say any of that.

"I'd rather not," I murmured politely, holding out my glass for another. "Please."

"Fine, fine," he responded with a wave of his hand and an obnoxious laugh, leaning across the counter, filling the glass and sliding it back over to me. I avoided his gaze, hoping that he couldn't see my face beneath my cloak.

"Say," he murmured, a cloud of rancid breath rushing out around my face, "what's a pretty thing like you hiding underneath that cloak?" he purred in a low, detestable voice.

He reached out and flicked at the fabric of my cloak with fingernails that were yellowed, adorning bony fingers, and I recoiled away, feeling my expression tighten at the unwanted contact. He drew back and raised his hands in surrender, making an amused, mocking face.

"Whoa there, calm down," he laughed with a smirk, and I bristled. I hated people like this, who refused to respect boundaries, people who didn't seem to understand when someone wanted to sit at a bar and think, while drinking on their own.

I felt strange tonight, so I did something I wouldn't normally do.

I set my mouth into a hard line, and reached up to push back my hood, revealing my prolific blond braid that everyone knew me by, and my eyes that were burning with annoyance and a silent threat. I moved my hand from where it rested on the table, and shifted it towards the streak of glimmering ice that hung from my waist. His eyes flicked down to where I had pushed my cloak aside to reveal my weapon forged of ice and magic, and back up to my stern expression. He backed up a few paces, the teasing glint fading from his eyes instantly.

"Please don't touch me." Each word dropped from my mouth like a heavy stone, as ice cold as the blood that coursed through my veins. I maintained eye contact with him, and I saw him swallow visibly, his adams apple bobbing at the nervous impulse. He was frightened. He knew who I was.

The sorceress everyone feared.

The sound of a door slamming at the entrance of the tavern broke the intensity of the tension between us as we, and several other customers that were crowded into the establishment, turned around to see what the noise was. A tall, wide shouldered man with tousled black hair was striding purposefully into the room with a gust of cool winter wind, followed by two men, who were armed and squeezed into tight fitting uniforms of the blue variety.

"I'm looking for a woman named Elsa," the broad man announced to the room, his eyes scanning all the people who were now looking over at him curiously.

I started in surprise at his words, and it only took a moment for me to spring to my feet, my hand already hovering near my sword in case this was going to be trouble.

I stepped forward, careening around scattered tables and rowdy drunkards, making my way across the floor to where he stood. For a moment my eyesight blurred and I became aware of the effects of the drinks I'd just consumed. I felt fuzzy, like I was walking too fast even though I knew that I wasn't. I paused for a moment and shook myself to clear my head, before continuing.

I stopped right in front of him, and stared up at him, pulling on my best _no nonsense_ face. "I am Elsa. What is this about?"

"You're Elsa?" he demanded, slight disbelief creeping into his voice, and when I narrowed my eyes at him in reaction to what was no doubt an insult, he cleared his throat and coughed lightly before continuing. "Uh, hello. I'm Anna's uncle."

My heart leapt at her name, and I felt my stiff body relaxing slightly, but that knot in my stomach tightened.

He was still talking. "I'd like you to come with me, if you don't mind."

* * *

I was sitting in a dim room, a flickering candle sitting on the wooden table on one side of the comfortable chair that I was sitting in, straight backed and hands folded neatly in my lap. I appeared to be in some kind of sitting room; a cluster of dark coloured chairs surrounding me, a low table sitting in the center of a circle of the chairs. There was a row of windows on the far side of the room, all curtained except for one, cut into the stone walls like gaping mouths that opened out into the night, swallowing me into the darkness that stared back at me.

_What am I doing here?_

I had no idea why I came with the strange man who came upon me on one of my extremely rare trips to the small drinking establishment at the corner of town.

Maybe it was because when I heard the mention of Anna's name, I was immediately intrigued.

As if on cue, the door sprung open and I rose to my feet, to behold a flustered Anna tumbling through the doorway in a streak of red hair and a casual pale pink gown that hugged the curves of her waist. The hulking figure that was her uncle followed more slowly behind the bundle of light that was Anna.

"Elsa!" she exclaimed, stopping a few feet away from me and grinning widely at me. "It's so good to see you again."

I was silent for a moment as I allowed myself to admire the gentle curve of her lips as she beamed at me. Then I reminded myself to smile back at her and respond. "It's good to see you as well."

Anna opened her mouth to say something, but she was interrupted by her uncle resting his hand on her shoulder, his deep voice ringing across the room. "Please, why don't we all sit. We have things to discuss."

With a little grin Anna flopped down into a chair across from me, sinking into the cushions with gusto, and her uncle sat down beside her. I descended into my seat more slowly, arranging myself into the chair with a question on my lips. The two of them had hardly settled into their seats before the inquisition sprang forth, and hung suspended in the air, more like an accusation than I'd intended.

"Why exactly am I here?"

The man glanced over at Anna out of the corner of his eye, but I kept my sight trained on him, knowing that it was most likely because of him that I was there.

Plus, I found Anna's constant exuberance to be distracting; in a warm, endearing way.

"Well," he began, cracking his knuckles as he leaned back, "I heard that you rescued my niece on the night you met."

I didn't respond except for a tiny nod of my head of confirmation. That encouraged him to continue.

"Well, Anna tells me about your, uh... skills," he stumbled slightly over this word as he articulated the word in a voice that dripped with an insinuation towards either my swordsmanship, or my magic. "I've been looking for you ever since. You're a hard woman to track down, in fact I only found you tonight by chance."

"I told him how wonderful you were," Anna jumped in, and I looked over at her to give her a small smile of thanks. She returned it happily, and I turned back to her Uncle.

"She needed help, and so I helped her," I stated matter-of-factly.

"Yes," he agreed, "and I am extremely grateful for that. However, I fear that Anna might end up in trouble like that again. It seems that I cannot convince her to stay in the safety of the quiet countryside, and refuses guards to accompany her."

I was thoroughly confused... and slightly bothered at how protective this man seemed. Anna was definitely about my own age, and no weakling. She seemed to be thinking the same thing, as I caught a barely contained, annoyed glance in her uncle's direction. She saw me notice, and suppressed a laugh behind her hand, biting her lip. I swallowed a smile as I spoke to him again.

"What does that have to do with me? "

"Well," he said, leaning forward to peer at me, "Actually, I would like to hire you."

I was stunned. It took a few moments for me to process the request, to take in his expectant face and Anna's open expression that glowed by his side.

_Hire_ me? For _what_?

"I'm not sure I understand," I said slowly, my brow furrowed in confusion.

Anna laughed softly and rose to her feet, crossing the floor and slid into the chair next to me, her close proximity sending waves of warmth to seep through my clothes, hot against my leg. For someone who didn't usually like for people to be near me, I didn't mind her being so close. I found her presence comforting.

"Uncle is pretty worried about me going out into the city, which I think is absolutely_ ridiculous_," she threw the word across the room with a momentary pointed glare, which was met with a sheepish shrug, then she turned back to me and reassumed her sunny disposition. "And when he heard about you, he thought it was a perfect opportunity for me to learn how to fight. You know, to protect myself."

I felt one eyebrow raise at her in a surprised inquiry. "You want me to teach you to fight?"

"I'll pay you well," the uncle interrupted in a booming voice. "It's just that... well, Anna is a special girl, and it's important that nothing happens to her."

I wondered briefly if he meant special as in special to him, or in another way.

I turned my attention to him, my face severe. "Sir, do you realize who I am?"

His expression darkened slightly, and I could practically see him stiffening; a look that I was familiar with. It was the _ah yes, I've heard all about this witch_ look. I despised it.

He must've heard the stories, the ones that circulated out of my control and into the gossiping mouths of the townsfolk. Knowing what they were saying, I didn't blame him for his reaction at the reminder, even though it made me cringe internally.

He recovered quickly though, and sighed heavily.

"Yes, I do," he affirmed in a cautious voice. "But you saved her, and I'm hoping that we can disregard all of that and I can trust you with my Anna."

"Elsa?" Anna's voice came from beside me and I looked at her, an insinuated _yes?_ apparent in my eyes. Her lips were pulled into that bubbly smile of hers, as she stared at me with those cerulean eyes that reminded me of the depths of a bright blue sky. "I'd really like you to teach me," she implored, her tone pleading behind the luminescent grin.

Something lurched inside of me, and I shivered.

It was funny how she kept doing that to me.

I didn't realize it until I was walking away with the mansion at my back, the soft warmth of her company fading behind me, that my mind was made up the instant she proposed the offer and looked at me with those sparkling eyes. I didn't realize until I was alone in the cold, walking back towards town underneath a sky that was shrouded by a blanket of stars, pinpricks that let in snippets of brilliant light, that the decision was made in that moment.

That I couldn't have said no if I'd tried.

I'd be back in the morning, no doubt with a head spinning with confusion at whatever lay clenched in my stomach right now, and with a heart full of Anna's dazzling smile.


	5. Anna - Arrival

**A/N:** ITS LATE AND SHORT I'M SO SORRY... things suddenly got crazy at work, I'm literally updating this as I am about to walk out the door...

P.S. Thanks for over 100 follows you're all so awesome !

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Chapter 5 - Anna

Arrival

* * *

In the rosy sunlight of dawn, the mansion stood behind me, brilliant and imposing as it looked down over the hill, as I waited for her.

Snow was still clinging to the roof, the light dusting of snow giving it an ethereal, eternal winter look. The boughs of the evergreen trees that held the path that lead up to the house in its midst slanted towards the ground, prickly fingertips encrusted with sparkling crystals of ice. Ice and snow crunched beneath my feet, making a satisfying crackling noise with each movement of nervous shuffling my feet.

She said that she would be here at daybreak, and I was at the head of the walkway, foolishly waiting for her arrival. I kept telling myself that I was just being a good host, waiting to escort the newest member of the household into the house to show her around, but deep down I knew that I was just really excited.

Not so much deep down, really. I was practically jumping out of my skin as I impatiently awaited her arrival in the crisp winter morning, my breath clouding with each anxious breath.

After what seemed to be an eternity, I finally saw her cresting the hill, the streak of platinum blond that was her magnificent hair blending softly against the calm whiteness of the snow that surrounded her. She walked quickly, with a steady gait, as she approached me.

I arranged myself into a casual position, as if I waited outside for every visitor we received.

Which, I didn't.

"Elsa!" I exclaimed as soon as she was within earshot, and she raised a hand to return the nervous wave I sent her way with my mittened hand. She wore a half smile on her lips, and a small bag was slung across her back, smaller than I'd expected considering she had agreed to live in the mansion for the duration of her employment, for convenience reasons. "Is that all you brought?"

"Yes," she replied to my inane question. Of_ course_ that was all she brought. "I don't need much."

I nodded, and clenched my hands together, my palms becoming clammy beneath the fabric of my mittens. "Well," I began, gulping around my nervousness, "I'll show you to your room if you want me to."

She stopped right in front of me, adjusting the pack on her back as she peered at me out of her blue eyes. "I figured that a servant would be coming do to that," she commented.

I felt a blush rising in my neck, until I saw the teasing glint that danced in her gaze. She was good-naturedly poking fun at me.

"I thought that it would be more appropriate if I did," I responded with a soft laugh, and she nodded, flashing a brief, friendly smile in my direction.

"Ah, well thank you." She glanced towards the house, jerking her head towards the grand doors that was guarded by a sole footman. "Shall we get out of the cold then?"

"Right!" I agreed, and with that I shook myself, turning around to lead her into the house.

The room I'd chosen for her was tucked in a corner at the end of the hallway that contained my room. Uncle had been in disagreement on the room I'd chosen, suggesting that I pick one nearer the servant's quarters, which were still roomy and well kept. I had been adamant, and I'd prepared the room for Elsa, the spacious room with a large bed adorned with deep blue coverlets and plush rugs that coated the floor. It overlooked the courtyard that spread out beneath the window. In the springtime it featured a lush garden of flowers and trickling fountains that required several gardeners to maintain, but right now it was blanketed with a thick layer of snow, shrouded in white instead of green.

I figured Elsa probably preferred it that way.

"This is your room," I declared as I shoved the door open and gestured for her to go in. As she entered, immediately frowned and glanced at me with a question in her eyes. "Uh, isn't this a bit fancy... for an employee?"

"Nope!" I replied cheerfully, marching over to the window and throwing the heavy curtains aside to let in the early morning light. "You're a part of the household now, you'll take meals with us as well."

She was still frowning skeptically, her arms crossed over her chest. "Are you sure that's wise? I'm technically not part of your household-"

"You are, I insist," I interrupted her, with a placating smile. "You're a guest of honour, you saved my life remember?"

I thought for a moment I saw a flush spread across her fair cheeks, but she turned away to toss her things on the bed. "It was nothing," she said in stoic tone that I almost thought was hovering over a tone of embarrassment beneath the mask, her back still to me.

"Nonsense!" I cried, dismissing it with a wave that she didn't see, and dashing forward to grab her hand, slender and cool to the touch. I caught a glimpse of a shocked expression flicker across her face before I turned to the door, dragging the ice cold young woman behind me. "Come on," I exclaimed as I lead her out of the room, "I want to show you around."

I proceeded to show her every room. Hours and hours passed as we explored the vast expanse that was my home, ducking into parts of the house that I rarely even visited, excitedly clutching her hand in mine the whole time, not even noticing it until I'd been doing it for so long that there was no point in letting go. Even after she'd seen more rooms than she'd remember, she still smiled with an appreciative expression as I pushed open door after door, introducing her to the staff that we ran into in the hallways and the kitchens and everywhere in between. She never looked bored, always listening intently and returning my bantering with words of genuine, quiet admiration. It was because of this that I couldn't control my enthusiasm.

Something about her, but I couldn't figure out what, made me feel giddy.

* * *

I couldn't think of many other things that I hated more than lying awake in the dark, wishing for sleep to finally claim me.

I'd been lying there, completely still for what seemed like hours, hoping that any moment I would fall softly into unconsciousness, and yet every tick of the clock brought on more sleepless fatigue.

Sighing, rolled over in the silky sheets, and fumbled around on the nightstand until I found a match to light the candlestick I kept by my bed. Then, I swung my feet over the side of the bed, throwing a thick dressing gown over my shoulders and scuffling my socked feet across the cold floor. I made my wait, yawning, over to the window, and sat in the little nook there that was embedded in the wall next to the window, the one I kept covered in pillows and blankets for nights like these. I burrowed down into them, resting my head lightly on the cool glass.

The day had been long, uneventful, and yet having Elsa there made it so much better. She'd told me that she didn't want to start teaching me any skills on the first day, so instead we had practiced simple footwork and balance exercises. The whole time she had coaxed me in a gentle, patient voice, a tiny smile gracing her lips every time I would make a silly mistake and burst into a fit of giggles. Then we'd try it again, and we didn't stop until I got it right.

I didn't know if it was because I had not had anyone around to talk to except for Uncle in so long, or because there was something so breathtaking about the icy sorceress, but the fact that I knew she was just a few doors down made my skin tingle with something strange – something new. It was as if I was anticipating something, and there was a jumping in my stomach that wouldn't let me rest.

I almost wanted to go down the hallway, and knock on her door. Just to talk to her.

But I wouldn't do that of course, I thought with an internal sigh. I'd wake her, and she'd think I was strange, and I didn't want that. I wanted her to like me.

I knew one thing for sure – I was beyond glad she was here.


	6. Elsa - What is it About Her?

**A/N:** Whoops another late one… I'm not working night shifts anymore though so I'll have more time to update on time, have no fear! Thanks for all the follows/favourites/reviews.

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Chapter Six - Elsa

What is it About Her?

* * *

When I woke up, there was a startling moment of panic as I sat up suddenly waking cleanly without a moment's grogginess, my eyes frantically searching the room around me, my heart thudding wildly in my chest. My eyes assessed my surroundings, taking in the canopied bed, the ornate dresser in the corner, and the great doors with the shining handles.

Right. I remembered. I was in Anna's massive home.

My heart was still thudding, but now I thought that it was for a different reason.

Anna was just down the hall from me, probably still curled up in a sleepy ball, her eyes scrunched tight as she dozed, her bright hair spread out across her pillow in a haphazard mess of tangles. I wondered if she would be snoring softly, her breath leaving her body in tiny, rumbling noises. Maybe she even talked in her sleep.

I shook myself and buried my head in my hands, internally berating myself for the invasive thoughts running through my mind about my new employer sleeping peacefully in her bed.

I swung my legs over the edge of the bed, banishing the thoughts from my mind as I hopped down from the high pedestal the bed stood on – seriously, why did it have to be so high up? I scuffled across the floor in my bare feet, making my way over to the window, grasping the heavy curtains and flinging them open to reveal the snow drenched, morning light. The sun was hiding behind the clouds today, its shining face masked by a shroud of puffy whiteness, and yet, because of the snow that still coated the ground, it wasn't gloomy. It looked crisp and cool outside, the way I liked it.

A soft knock on my door made me turn around, hands immediately smoothing down the messy state my hair was no doubt in, mussed by the fitful night of sleep I'd just endured. I heaved an exasperated sigh as I realized I couldn't fix it in time, and called out a resigned "come in," to whoever was outside my door.

The door creaked open, and I straightened my stance when a bright face that belonged to the vivacious Anna peeked around the doorway, a smile playing around her lips.

"Morning!" she greeted me sunnily. "I came to tell you that we'll be having breakfast soon, if you'd like to come down."

I was immediately nodding, hands smoothing down my sleep-rumpled clothing with my palms, face smoothing into an alert and passive expression. "Yes, of course. Just give me a few minutes to clean myself up?"

"Sure!" she agreed, and shot me another smile that sent daggers into my heart. She paused before leaving, her voice poking fun at me with a jovial tone. "Nice hair, by the way. Bed head is a good look on you" she added with a teasing lilt in her voice, a glimmer of something genuine hiding somewhere in there, before disappearing with a soft thump of the door closing again.

It was almost as if she meant it, that I really did look good right now, even though I'd just rolled out of bed and I knew that I looked like a mess.

I felt my cheeks heat and I shook myself of her comment, ignoring the slight embarrassment I was feeling at her seeing me in all of my sleep rumpled glory, hair sticking out in awkward angles, sleep still clouding my eyes. There was no point in thinking about it.

I proceeded to throw on clothes, still crumpled from being lugged around in my rucksack, and ran fingers that were damp from the porcelain water basin by my dresser through my hair. I worked my fingers through my hair as I attempted to tame the unruly locks into the usual braid. By the time I was ready enough to go down, the sun was peeking through my window, the clouds opening up to reveal the glowing ball of sunshine. It glittered off the snow around my windowsill and cast dancing reflections around my room.

I only stared out for a moment, taking in the splendor that spread out below me in the extensive courtyard, before gathering myself, throwing one last look at myself in the mirror, before turning and quietly padding out of the room.

Time to face the day.

* * *

"No, keep your arm up when you do that move," I said as patiently as I could, resting a hand on her shoulder and turning her around, breaking the look of absolute concentration that was embedded in her face. She relaxed and dropped her arms, eyes watching me carefully as I stepped backwards to show her what I meant.

I swung the sword in my hand through the air, the clumsy practice sword gripped tightly in my fingers. I wasn't used to the way it felt in my hand, but Anna was nowhere near ready to be flicking around a real sword. I could see that being an accident waiting to happen.

I straightened myself into a standard fighter's stance, the straightened back and raised arms coming naturally to me as I felt Anna's inquisitive eyes boring into me.

I did the move carefully, slower than the speed at which I would normally do it, lunging forward with my right foot, and piercing the empty air with the point of the sword. "See?" I said, glancing over at her out of the corner of my eye as I returned to a standing position. "It's as easy as that, you just need to practice your form." I passed the faux weapon to her, and she nodded slowly, brows furrowed as she tried to mimic the position I had just taken.

"Like this?"

I shook my head and rain one hand through my hair, a tiny smile playing around my lips despite the fact that I was attempting to morph into serious teacher mode. Anna was just too charming – I couldn't seem to manage my normal stoic expression with her bubbly personality around me. She sucked all the calm coolness that I always attempted to portray, and transformed into something warmer, something softer that wasn't familiar, but I was starting to think that I really liked it.

"No, not quite, but that's a bit better. You need to raise your right elbow a bit more."

She moved somewhat, and I shook my head again. "More to the left."

She followed my instruction and looked at me expectantly. "Is this better?"

"No," I responded, my voice still low and patient. This wasn't working. How was I going to do this?

An idea struck me then, and a little bit of discomfort shivered in my spine, but I pushed it down. Now was not the time for me to be getting skittish at the thought of being near someone – I had a job to do.

So I sighed and moved over until I was standing behind her. "I'm going to show you, okay?"

"Alright," she agreed, tossing me a little grin over her shoulder, before turning around, waiting for me to help her.

I drew in a deep breath, quelling the anxiety that was rising in my stomach.

_It's just Anna. Sweet, caring Anna. _

With that thought, I pushed the nervousness away, suffocating it in a torrent of the warmth that Anna radiated and laid one hand gently on her arm bare arm. She was only wearing a thin tunic alone with trousers I knew she probably borrowed, because they were bagging slightly around her thin hips, and they pooled around her feet unless she rolled them up and tucked them into her pair of sensible boots. Her skin was soft, and warm, glowing minute amounts of heat into my fingers as I pushed her into the right position. Her back brushed against my chest as I moved my other hand to her other arm guiding her movements until she was in the right position.

In this process I caught myself staring at the pale skin of her back, the splattering of freckles that had spilled across the fair flesh. The protrusions that were her subtle shoulder blades moved slightly under those speckled shoulders, reminding me of the wingspan of a tiny bird; she was so delicate and pale.

She shivered, and glanced over her shoulder with eyes that sparkled with laughter. "I can feel your breath against my neck," she whispered with a slight giggle, keeping herself as still as she could, not moving from the position I was holding her in.

It was with those words that I realized that I had been holding her there for much too long, staring at the delicate curve of her shoulder blades, and with a sharp intake of air I stepped backwards; releasing her from my grip.

"Sorry," I said shortly, to hide my momentary bout of becoming flustered.

She smiled at me softly. "No need to apologize. Am I in the right place now?"

I cleared my throat and nodded sharply. "Uh, yes. Very good." I handed her the sword. "Now try doing this move, while maintaining that stance, but lunging forward."

I demonstrated the simple move without a weapon, which probably looked silly, but Anna was nodding seriously, as if this was the most important thing in the world to her right now, and she had to concentrate fully.

"Okay. Like this?" She slowly shifted her body in a poor imitation of the move that I had just done, awkwardly with bad form, but for the most part, it was excellent for a beginner. Hours into our first real training session, and she was always making progress.

"That was much better," I said enthusiastically, giving her an encouraging grin, crossing my arms over my chest as I looked at her approvingly.

She straightened and her face grew bright with pride, her eyes alight at my compliment. "Really?" she exclaimed happily. "You're a great teacher, Elsa."

I scoffed slightly without thinking, and shook my head. "No, you're a good student." I'd never taught anyone before, but with Anna it seemed easy, she was so amiable and willing to learn, looking at me with such confidence in her eyes. If I was a good teacher, it was only because I was reflecting what she was giving me.

"I think you're wonderful," she murmured in a quiet, sweet voice, staring at me with those cerulean eyes glinting in the midday sunlight that streamed in through the window of the room we'd chosen for training. She was smiling slightly, her cheeks flushed with –_ something _– and her hands were shifting the sword back and forth. I felt heat rushing through my frozen bones as I stared at her, eyes wide and unblinking. I hadn't been expecting the compliment, and judging by the way she was looking at me, the way she was now shrugging one shoulder up slightly and tucking a strand of reddish hair behind her ear, she meant more than I was good at teaching. She was complimenting _me._

I found myself, for what might have been the first time in years, sputtering over my words and blushing slightly.

"N-No, I'm not, it's all you" I stammered out the disagreement, as I turned around so she wouldn't see my flushed face.

What was it with this girl? She was turning me into a blubbering mess, stumbling over my words like a gawky teenager trying to get a date. Why was I so embarrassed by such a little compliment?

That thought, along with all other thoughts in my mind, flew away into oblivion as Anna sidestepped and spun around with a flick of her braids, sending that pesky strand of hair that she'd just tucked away to flutter next to her cheek. She rested one warm hand on my shoulder, the warmth seeping through my clothes, burning with urgency that didn't seem to match the teasing, yet genuine, glint that shimmered in those eyes that always seemed to be staring right into my own.

I almost melted into a puddle on the floor, the ice that always lay in a ball in my stomach unfurling slightly when she winked at me with an impish grin – _winked_ – and leaned in closer to whisper something, close enough to my face that I felt the sweetness of her breath flutter across my cheek. "How about we agree we're both wonderful, and get back to work, _teacher_?"


	7. Anna - The Flavour of Friendship

Chapter 7 - Anna

The Flavour of Friendship

* * *

"Here, try this one," I exclaimed, excitement bubbling over as I held a delicate pastry between my fingers, reaching over to hand it over to the skeptical blonde that was sitting across from me. She was rigid in her cross legged position, but she had laid her sword down across the room, and her face was relatively relaxed as she stared back at me.

"What is it?" she asked, her slender fingers tentatively reaching out to take the flaky dessert from my fingers, holding it between her thumb and forefinger as she examined it.

I smothered a giggle behind my hand and drew my knees closer to my chest, resting my chin on my knees. "Just try it!"

"But what if I don't –"

"If you don't try it you'll never know," I explained with a grin, gesturing for her to try it. "Go on, I promise its good."

With another unsure glance in my direction, she caved, and she brought it to her lips, taking the smallest bite off of the edge. She chewed almost imperceptibly, her brows drawn together in concentration, a tiny line forming between them. I'd noticed it appeared every so often; when I caught her lost in her thoughts, or when she was teaching me a particularly difficult manoeuver that required all of her attention.

The fact that it was appearing now, while she was complying with my wishes for her to try one of my favourite desserts, struck me as unbelievably adorable for some reason.

I saw the exact moment that the flavour hit her tongue, and enveloped her senses in the sweet taste of strawberry and chocolate, because her eyes lit up and a contented sound rumbled in her throat. "Mmmm," she murmured, nodding her head and plopped the rest of the delicacy on her tongue. "This is _delicious_," she said between bites.

"Isn't it?" I replied happily, and reached down to the floor where a plate of more of them rested in a neat little circle. I took one for myself, and then offered her another. She happily took another, shooting me a look that implied a thanks, and immediately launched into devouring it. I wasn't far behind her, stuffing the dessert in my mouth in a rather undistinguished manner.

I hardly cared. I wasn't at a formal dinner, or at a fancy ball where I was expected to be prim and proper; I was sitting on the rug in Elsa's bedroom, lounging in a nest of pillows, talking amiably and eating the food that I'd brought from the kitchens. It was comfortable and warm, and I didn't care that my skirts were now hitched up to reveal a considerable portion of my legs, or that I was slouched across our makeshift chaise.

It seemed strange to me that we had ended up here, on the floor, talking to each other in low, pleasant voices, both of us engaged in our meandering conversation.

I, for one, was simply enjoying her company, and even though it seemed strange, I didn't care because right now I felt more comfortable than I had in a long time.

We hadn't taken part in our training today, Elsa told me it was because it was better to keep my mind sharp, but I could've sworn that she had made that declaration whilst I had been flexing my sore fingers at the supper table while we dined. I might have imagined it, but it almost seemed like she was concerned, and that me feel warm inside, so I didn't argue.

And so after not seeing her all day, I had nervously knocked on her, and she had immediately opened it, her smooth expression polite as she took in the overenthusiastic redhead who was also embarrassed for disturbing her. I'd stammered out a request to just talk, because I was bored and wanted someone to keep me company. I assured her that I wouldn't be offended if she didn't want to be bothered at the moment, but she had shook her head and opened her door wider, inviting me in. We had sat by the window, staring out at the gleaming snowdrifts that cloaked the grounds, slipping into comfortable conversation. It didn't take long for my playful side to kick in, and for me to jump up, pulling the reluctant blond behind me by her cool wrist. I had flung a plethora of pillows on the floor before she could even form a coherent thought. By then I was running through the possibilities of dessert sitting untouched in the kitchens, shushing Elsa when she asked me where I was going as I bounded out of the room. I returned with a silver platter heaped higher than we could ever possibly eat, and we had ended up here.

I was letting the flavour of chocolate and strawberry mingle together in a haze alongside the flaky pastry shell it was nestled in, savouring the taste and the contented silence between us as we ate.

Surprisingly, it was Elsa who broke the quiet that hovered in the room, after swallowing a mouthful and flicking her azure eyes in my direction.

"Is it your favourite?" she asked slowly, pointing one fair finger towards remnants of my third that was sticky between my fingers.

I cocked my head to the side with a little smile. "Nope," I admitted. "Though it is delicious, it's not my number one."

"Then what is?" she inquired, eyes searching the platter between us.

I laughed softly, shaking my head. "Oh no, I didn't bring it out with me just now. That's a _milestone_, we have to save it."

"A milestone?"

"Yes, a milestone," I said firmly, my face smoothing over into mock seriousness. "It can't just be thrown out at the beginning, it has to be worked up to."

"Huh," she mused, resting her hands on her lap, and looking at me with a face I could tell was trying to discern how serious I was.

The answer was; only minutely. But a glimmer of seriousness lingered there.

"Yup," I sad cheerily. "You have to earn it."

Her eyebrows shot up at that. "I have to earn your favourite dessert?"

"Well yes," I frowned. "You can't really expect me to just hand it over at the beginning of our friendship." I stumbled a little bit over the last word, and I coughed lightly to try and hide it. I hoped she didn't notice.

Friendship.

When was the last time I'd had a friend? I couldn't even remember.

"Right," she agreed, as if that was a sensible request. Always so serious and collected, she was. She could probably tell I was joking, but her personality didn't seem to allow her to banter back with me.

_I'd like to see her break out of that shell. I bet deep down there's something as sparkling as those eyes of hers._

She was looking at me now with a strange expression on her face, eyes probing into me, assessing me. "Friendship?" she asked quietly, not choking on the word like I had, but glazing over it carefully, like it was made of glass and if it was dropped too suddenly it would shatter around us with a resounding smash. It was hesitant and cautious, and dripping with a sound that reminded me of the taste that lingered on my tongue when I had said it the first time.

_Longing. _

It was twisting around the word like a tiny little storm, and just those few syllables were steeped in so much emotion, that only someone who knew loneliness would be able to recognize.

It made my heart ache to hear it wafting to my ears in Elsa's dulcet voice.

"Yes," I answered in the same soft voice, placing the answer between us just as gently as the question had been delivered.

"I uh," Elsa paused, as if she was searching for the right word to say next. She seemed to find it, and tested the sounds on her lips. "I haven't had a friend in a really long time."

Something crumbled inside of me at those words, because even though she was still hiding behind her stoic mask, I saw a glimmer of that pain I knew was openly shining in my eyes. She must have been able to see it, but she was too scared, too nervous to show it. I saw it anyways.

I reached out a hand, and gently touched the back of her hand where it was resting on the rug, and she flinched slightly at the contact. She didn't pull away though, and when she didn't, I curled my hand around hers, twining out fingers together, palms pressed against each other in a silent reassurance.

"Me neither," I whispered, honesty breaking my voice in a strange way that I couldn't control. "Which is why I want us to be friends."

She studied me for a long moment before nodding, giving my hand a tiny squeeze in reciprocation. "I'd like that very much," she murmured softly.

I grinned at her happily, not caring if I looked goofy or not. I was just so glad.

"Uh, Elsa?" my voice lilted at the end of her name as I said her name as a question, and I was leaning forward slightly, towards her and her comforting gaze.

"Yes?" she responded, only seeming slightly aware of my approaching proximity.

"I'm going to… uh… I'm going to hug you." I gulped. "Is that okay?"

For a split second, I could see the way her body stiffened and her eyes flashed panic, and I immediately began to back away, worried that I had pushed too far. She was clearly a closed off person, she wasn't about to tear down her walls for someone she had only known for a few weeks.

Then the frantic moment faded, and the look in her eyes was replaced with something softer, something calmer. She squeezed my hand again, and wordlessly nodded, her bottom lip suddenly assaulted by her snow white teeth.

I released her hand from my grip, and raised my arms slowly, shuffling forward slowly in what had to be a completely silly looking hobbling motion, but Elsa didn't seem to notice. She was watching my face closely, hers unreadable and smooth as glass. Her eyes were staring into me as I approached.

Then I was collapsing into her arms, really touching her for the first time since the night we had met for the first time. I wrapped my arms around her shoulders lightly, clutching at her coolness and resting my chin on her shoulder. She was stiff for a long moment, longer than I would have liked, but then she relaxed. Her hands came up to press against the small of my back, her gentle fingers pressing into the thin fabric of my clothes. Her arms circled around me, holding me against her chest. She was pulling me closer, and I stumbled forward with an outward _oof,_ my breath escaping me in a gust of air as I sunk further into her embrace.

Now I was practically sitting in her lap, sprawled across her as I clung to her. For a split second I wondered if I was overdoing it, but then I remembered that she pulled me forward, and I allowed myself to enjoy the closeness of another human being.

Who knew hugging felt so good? Having her arms around me was like being wrapped in a blanket of human comfort, wordless understanding passing through us, passed on by the closeness of our bodies. It wasn't uncomfortable, or awkward. It was soft, and she smelled like fresh winter air, the scent tickling my nose as I breathed in softly. I felt safe, and not because I knew that Elsa could protect me. She probably had another blade hidden somewhere, but no. It wasn't that kind of safe. It was the kind of safe that comes from knowing that another person is breathing next to you, the knowledge that your safety matters more to them than just the physical things.

She made my heart feel safe.

Maybe it was because I hadn't had a friend since I was too young to remember how it felt, but I found myself in that moment wondering why I hadn't spent my whole life in Elsa's arms.

* * *

**A/N:** Just a snippet of some fluff for you lovelies. Next chapter will be kinda heavy with emerging plot, so enjoy some Elsa and Anna getting to know each other :).

Also ! I keep forgetting to mention this - I did a rough sketch of Elsa and her sword, I might do a better one at some point, it was just to give a rough idea of the image I have of her. Also, my wonderful friend pazgranger did some much better doodles for this fic, so I'm going to post the links in my profile if you want to see them. I suggest you go check them out :D.


	8. The Necromancer

In the dark, the necromancer hunches over his work, fingers deftly pulling, prodding the unanimated body that lay on the table in front of him. The world has faded into silence around him, for him this is all there is; the dim light that flutters against the sallow skin of his subject, his project. All that matters is this, his concentration on what he is trying to achieve. He feels the strain at the back of his neck, a crick that is screaming at him for being so foolish as to ignore the need for sleep that is always pressing at the back of his mind. It's not important right now – all that matters is this. He has to succeed, he feels it in every beat of his heart. It is his purpose and he cannot fail.

The room in which he works, is dusky and dank, and it is where he spends most of his time. He works in the filth of the unwashed shelves and grimy floor. Every time he stumbles out of the room into the blinding brightness of _out there,_ for sustenance that he usually forgets about, he notices a grayish substance that has collected around the bottoms of his work shoes. He doesn't care though, he has no time to clean; he only has time to work.

Even now, he feels a nagging of _not quick enough, not quick enough, _running through his mind. He ignores it with a hearty sigh, and keeps on working.

He ignores it tonight, because he's almost done.

After _years_, he is almost done. He can feel it prickling under his skin, the knowledge that he will soon be finished rushing through him like a tidal wave. He pushes it back, battling with his excitement, for now at least. Until the last piece is solved, he cannot stop to feel the rush of relief of finally being finished.

He lays his hands on the lifeless figure that lays flat on his desk, naked from the waist up, pale flesh bright against the stark darkness of the workshop. The skin is cold – always cold – and he shivers as his bare hands connect with the flesh. He still isn't used to this feeling, this imminent cold that had come so fervently with his death.

He breaths in deeply, feeling the foul air curling into his lungs as he steadies his hands. He draws on the spark that shimmers in his core, calling forth the powers that lie there in wait.

The air is now shimmering with the presence of magic, the promise of dark enchantment hissing through the air. He ignores the resistance that hovers around him, trying to shove the darkness back inside of him, into the tar-black pit in his chest. He almost smiles in relief when he feels the shift around him, the struggle to push the magic into the air dissipating quickly and being replaced with the empty silence that was waiting to be filled with his power.

It was time.

With only the slightest effort, it was streaming through his fingertips, trembling in his palms. It sparked against the skin beneath his hands, and he felt it coursing through every vein. The tendrils of magic spun through the body, re-knitting muscle and bone back together, breathing life into the lax limbs. Magic was humming through him; a dark, succulent magic that almost took his breath away. He reveled in it and the power it made him feel. He was so strong. He _loved_ how strong he was.

He finished with one last flourish, a quirk of the lips and a sharp exhale. He stepped back, and waited, the air as dead and quiet as a morgue. He waited. Waited.

Watching the still shape on his desk, still pallid and pale.

Then, cold eyes flashed open, unblinking and wide with unreadable emotion that glowered and bored into him. The newly rejuvenated man sat up, the quiet creaking of his bones the only sound that was audible enough to hear. His eyes never left the necromancer, the man who was brave enough to delve into the dark arts to bring him back. His eyes were direct, and daunting. The magician shivered at the sight.

The man licked his lips with a flicker of his pinkish tongue, moving his lips to hiss something in a dry, cracked voice that was seething with anger and a threat. One word – a name – that sent shivers of distaste down the necromancer's spine.

"_Elsa_."

* * *

**A/N:** Almost 200 follows! :D

Introducing some dark themes… this is only a teaser of what's to come.

I know this is obscenely short, and Elsa and Anna aren't even in it, but their part will be uploaded separately from this section later on tonight :).


	9. Elsa - Midnight Conversations

Chapter 9 - Elsa

Midnight Conversations

* * *

A month had passed, and before I knew it, I was embedded in Anna's everyday life as if I had always been a permanent figment in her household. I found myself liking it, the natural feeling of belonging and comfort that came with the simplicity of having a routine.

We developed a schedule. Every morning Anna would bound into my room – any pretense that she had any intention of knocking ever again flew away after the hugging incident on my bedroom floor weeks before – bright eyed and announcing to me in a singsong voice that it was time to have breakfast. Which we would have, after Anna dragged me down the stairs behind her, fingers clenched gently around my wrist as she practically skipped to the magnificent dining hall. Every morning I wondered how she could get so excited about everything, even something as simple as sitting down to eat breakfast with the same people – an ice cold magician and her gruff uncle – and yet, she was always sparkling with excitement as she peered over at me across the table. She'd thrust new dishes in my direction, beaming the whole time as she insisted I try them all. She had a kind of fascination with making me try things, and it was a fascination I was happy to oblige to. Their cook certainly knew what they were doing.

After that, she would excuse herself for a while, and disappear until noon. I didn't know where to, just that she would kindly say goodbye to me, and tell me she would see me later, and she escaped out of the room still smiling. It was during this time that I would explore the mansion, visit as many rooms as I could, making frequent stops to bury myself in a comfortable chair with a captivating book in the library. I'd be absorbed in the words until Anna would come in in a flurry of energy, and drag me off again.

The afternoons were for training. She was getting good, learning faster every day. She was still clumsy with her weapon, her footwork far from perfect, but she was leaning. I accounted most of it to the fact that she was so eager to learn. I imagined that any teacher would find her to be a joy to teach. The soft laughter and focused eyes lingered with me long after we had set aside our swords and parted ways.

I wouldn't see her until the next morning, usually, but the time we did spend together was filled with an easy, quiet warmth that was spread through simple and comfortable conversation.

And so we fell softly into this funny thing called friendship. I had to say, that I quite enjoyed it.

Even taking this into consideration, I was still beyond confused to hear a quiet voice reach out from the darkness in the middle of the night, softly calling my name from the doorway.

"Elsa?"

Sitting up from the tangle of my bed sheets in confusion, I sat up with a frown embedded in my brow. "Yes?" I called out tentatively, not even bothering to try and smother my obvious confusion.

The soft padding of feet, and the faint flicker of candlelight that washed a freckled face, alerted me of Anna's presence. She stepped into my room and hovered in the doorway, shifting uncomfortably on her bare feet.

"Uh, I'm sorry, I really hope I didn't wake you, I just couldn't sleep and I was wondering…" she trailed off with a shrugging of her shoulders, shooting me a plaintive look.

"Wondering what?" I inquired. I had no idea why she was here.

"I just wanted to talk."

"Talk?"

"Yes. Talk."

My frown deepened slightly, and I fought to smooth my expression. She looked… nervous for some reason. Anna never looked nervous.

"In the middle of the night?"

"I was lonely… and I couldn't sleep."

"Huh," was my only response to that, as I continued to stare at her quizzically. She was standing there with the candlestick clenched in one of her small hands, the other was holding a thick blanket around her shoulders. Her hair was mussed, as if she had attempted to sleep and only after much tossing and turning she decided to come into my room.

"I'm sorry," she sputtered, shaking her head, and even from the distance between us I could see the flush that was creeping up her neck, and engulfing her cheeks. "I shouldn't have bothered you, gosh you deserve your privacy." Her eyes were ducking with uncertainty, and she was shaking her head as if she were ashamed of herself. "I'm really sorry Elsa, I'll leave, and I won't do this to you ag-"

"Hey, hey," I interrupted her by waving my hands to stop her rambling before she got on a roll. "Anna, it's okay. I was awake anyways."

She didn't answer, just stared at me apprehensively, warily.

"We can talk," I continued, patting the bed next to me as I scooted up to draw my knees back to make more room for her.

"Are you sure?" she whispered, the uncertainty still lingering in her expression.

I nodded, and gave her a reassuring smile.

That's all it took for her to take off in my direction, face split in a happy smile. She dove onto my bed, settling into a cross legged position across from me, grinning at me widely.

"Thanks," she said happily, her exuberance back where it belonged, in the glint of her eyes.

"Of course."

Anna bounced up and down a few time, the bed shaking with her movement. A grin lit up her face. "This used to be my bed when I was a child."

"This huge thing?" I glanced around me pointedly, an eyebrow raised at the expanse of blankets that surrounded me. No child needed a bed this big.

"Yup!" she confirmed and craned her neck back, raising the candlestick over her head so she could see. I didn't look in the direction she had turned, though, instead opting for staring at the way the light glanced off her face and reverberated off of each of her freckles.

I was forced to look up when she pointed and started speaking again.

"Do you see that?" she asked, and I begrudgingly – I wasn't sure why I didn't want to, I only knew that I didn't – turned to see what she was pointing to.

"I don't see anything," I admitted after a few moments of squinting at nothing. The sloping canopy above us featured nothing extraordinary.

"Look harder," she told me, gesturing wildly and extending her arm up farther.

More squinting and craning my neck, searching… until I saw black smudges, fading shapes that blended so well with the dark fabric it was no wonder it took so long to find them. I couldn't tell what they were, though.

"What is it?"

Anna was laughing softly when I looked back down, her hand muffling the quiet giggles that were escaping her lips.

"When I was younger, I would pile things on this bed into this big tower, and I would climb up and draw things in a black pen, because I wanted my drawings to watch over while I slept. Well, I only did it a few times because the third time I did it, I fell off and broke my arm. My uncle was so angry with me, and made me help the servants clean the stains out. They never faded completely." Her face was closing off into bemused nostalgia at the memory, and I could just see the mischievous little Anna thinking it was a good idea and clambering up to adorn the canopy with what she probably thought was magnificent art.

It made me a little sad to think of how much it probably excited her as a child, and now they images were faded beyond recognition, despite the childlike enthusiasm behind the pictures. Another part of me wanted to laugh because it was just so Anna.

Instead of laughing I smiled at her, a question on my tongue. "What did you draw?"

"Oh, everything! I particularly liked to draw myself as a princess, wearing a ball gown and wearing a tiara."

I imagined that as a child, Anna probably had her fair share of ball gowns and tiaras, whether she was a princess or not.

Anna probably saw the look on my face, and interpreted it because she laughed quietly and waved her hand in my direction. "Yes, yes, I know. I had all of those luxuries when I was a child, but being a self-indulgent little monster, I still wanted to be a princess. Princess Anna. It's all I could think about… living in the palace in the royal city and just… being a princess."

Her smile quirked up a bit more at a memory. "I also liked to imagine I fought dragons as a hobby. Warrior princess was my ultimate dream."

"You must have had quite the imagination."

"Don't all children?"

Her question made me pause, and I contemplated as I went back to my childhood in my mind, trying to find some spark that suggested that I was a normal child that thought of slaying dragons and royalty.

If I had, it was so far buried beneath layers of ice that I couldn't remember it.

"I don't remember," I told her in a low voice. I didn't think of my childhood much.

Her eyes were still sparkling when she spoke again. "I bet you were an adorable child; all quiet and serious, but sweet at the same time."

I faltered at that, thinking that it made me feel all tingly that she thought I would have been things like _sweet_, or _adorable_, and I suddenly wanted to tell her how adorable she probably was. I imagined she was bubbly and enthusiastic, full of energy and curiosity, the same way she was now but just in miniature form. She was probably impossible to control, but only because she looked at the world with so much curiosity and eagerness. She wouldn't have been meek and quiet, and it was most likely a precious thing to behold.

I didn't want to say that out loud though, so I simply let out a little laugh that didn't spur the conversation further, and we both fell silent.

It was a long moment before I broke the silence again, with a tentative question. "So… why couldn't you sleep?"

She shrugged, shaking her head side to side. Something flickered across her face briefly, something that reminded me of a lingering distress, but it was gone in a moment. "It's nothing, I just can't sleep sometimes."

"Me too," I said softly, my voice honest and quiet. She smiled at me sadly, as if she knew the tinge of unease that made its way into my voice.

"Your mind tends to run away with itself whenever you try to fall asleep, doesn't it?"

"Yes," I said simply, remember all the times I tried to sleep and all I saw was faces. Blood, and faces that didn't exist anymore. They only came to me in sleep, cloaked in regret and anguish, and no matter how hard I tried I couldn't shake them. Memories choked me when I closed my eyes.

"I dream about my parents a lot," Anna whispered in a quiet voice. Her eyes were cast down to where she was fiddling with a piece of thread in the blankets, her fingers picking at the frayed fabric with sudden urgency. "I never met them, so I don't know their faces, but they don't need faces for my mind to come up with the idea that I knew them and they were taken away from me…" Her words were tumbling out of her as if she couldn't get them out fast enough, as if speaking slowly would give her the opportunity to stuff the words back into her mouth where she would swallow them. If she was anything like me, once they were swallowed, it would be nearly impossible to coax them out again through steely lips and clenched teeth.

So why the sudden honesty?

To be fair, Anna always exuded this kind of sincerity that came with someone who was honest in general, but I hadn't exactly been expecting her to open up to me like this, surprising me in the middle of the night.

Under the bulky fabric of the blanket, I could still see the tension in her shoulders, the shadows that played across her expression. She had never mentioned her parents before, and I had often wondered about them, considering she lived in this massive house, alone with her uncle.

I reached out to touch the back of her hand, fingers resting gently against the velvety softness of her skin. This kind of contact was usually not something I would initiate, but she looked so distraught suddenly, that I hardly even thought about it as I reached for her, offering her a comforting gesture.

_This is what friends do right?_

"Anna," I murmured her name in a low voice, the sweet sound rolling off my tongue in a gentle arc. "Are you okay?"

She started, and looked up at me with sad eyes, and an even sadder smile. "Of course," she said, leaving her hand to rest under my touch. I left my hand there, not receiving any signs that I should remove it.

"Do you want to tell me about your parents?" I decided to phrase the question like this, not demanding her to tell me about them, or where they were, but gently asking her if she'd like to share something about them with me. Anything.

She shook her head, that sad look not leaving her eyes. "Sometime," she responded in a low voice, the corner of her mouth turning up into a poor imitation of her usual smile. "But not tonight."

With that she turned her hand over and twined our fingers together, and my heart jumped as I reciprocated the movement, pressing our palms together. Hers was warm, and mine was undoubtedly cool to touch, but she didn't seem to mind. If anything, she seemed to be enjoying the contact of someone else's skin on her own.

"Okay," I agreed, squeezing her hand against my own.

Then the smile was back, chasing away all of the uncertainty and fleeting sadness that had been in her eyes, and the shine was back in her face, even though I noticed it was a bit more faint than usual.

It didn't stop us from slipping into one of our usual, enthusiastic conversations, which as usual mostly consisted of Anna rambling and me listening, occasionally interjecting a comment here and there that would send her off in another direction, a whirlwind of hand gestured and excited words. I liked watching the way her lips curved around the words, it was comforting in a way, the way she jumped over each syllable as if she couldn't wait to get to the next one, so she had to hurry up and finish the last. Yet, it didn't feel like a one sided conversation – I offered my cool silence and calculated comments, and she offered her sparkling charm. We balanced each other out, fit each other like puzzle pieces. Different and yet worked to perfectly together. I couldn't remember talking to anyone else the way I talked to her.

I held her hand the whole time we talked. I, who hated the idea of someone being so close that their skin could touch mine, did not think once to pull away.

* * *

The moon always finds Elsa some way or another. Even if she hides, or the clouds strangle her pale light, she will always find her, and offer her essence to calm the chaos in her mind.

Tonight, the Ice Enchantress is tangled in a pool of blankets and red hair. The room is echoing with the soft sound of two pairs of soft breathing, two silenced voices drawn into the throats of their owners and quelled in their bellies. Both are tired of running in their dreams, and so tonight they rest, in each other's comfort.

Neither of them had known that when sleep befell them, they would tumble together like magnets that gravitate to each other, and fall into a soft embrace of comfort. Drowsily, they faded into sleep without even noticing that arms were clenched around the soft, firmness of another human body.

The moon shimmers against the icy cheek of the woman who brews a glacial storm in her veins, and watches the calm waves of sleep that passes over her face. Her right hand is twisted in a loose handful of her companion's hair, the other arm slung across her shoulders and pulling her tight against her chest. The fiery young woman is curled against her chest, head resting in the hollow between her chin and her throat. She is curved against her, the only separation between them is the thin fabric of their clothing.

Neither of them knew yet how much they would one day yearn for the contact of skin on skin.

Elsa wakes in the middle of the night, and drowsily turns slightly so that her mouth sends out tiny gusts of breath against the other girl's cheek, who murmurs in sleepy contentment before moving in closer. Not thinking, not realizing why they are so close or even that it might be something that she ought to think about, Elsa just holds her tighter, relishing the warmth of her, while Anna enjoys the coolness emanating from her that sooths the burning of her skin.

If Elsa is watched by the moon, the sun is Anna's guardian.

They ward each other's dreams away, and neither realizes it. They just rest, sleep overtaking them in calm tranquility.

* * *

**A/N:** It's much longer and has some sweet Elsanna moments to balance out the creepiness of the last chapter.

P.S. Follow my tumblr for a heads up on my erratic update schedule, because clearly I am unable to have one :P. My apologies.


	10. Anna - Losing Balance

**A/N:** Okay so the first part of this is a flash back about five years into Elsa's past, which is why it isn't written in first person. The last little bit is present day in the story.

Look, look it finally has cover art that I'm in love with! By Pazgranger, links in my profile for her tumblr and things.

* * *

_**Five years ago**_

_Elsa's breath hitches slightly in her throat as her magic sparks in her fingertips, the vial breaking in her hand and jagged shards of glass splintering onto the work table in front of her as a pale green liquid leaks over the table. She hisses as one of the shards slices the space between her middle and pointer fingers, drawing a sliver of crimson blood out through the creamy whiteness of her skin._

"_Elsa," a hard voice snaps behind her and she feels her face twist into a grimace. Suddenly a hand is there, gripping her arm so tight she's sure it'll leave faint bruises, and its twisting her hand around as the owner of the hand glares down at the blood and the mess. "What have I told you about keeping hold of your power?"_

_Elsa ground her teeth together as she pulled her wrist out of his grasp. "I was trying," she said flatly, only an edge of her annoyance seeping into her voice. It only earned her a gruff noise of disapproval from the middle aged man with the gnarled teeth and grey streaked hair that was hovering over her. She swallows the heated retort she is tempted to throw at his back as he away from her, instead turning to the mess with tense shoulders and lips pressed tightly together. _

_She tried not to hear it when he murmurs one last thing under his breath, one last biting insult before he forgets about her, but she can't help it, and it pierces her like a dart. _

_"Useless, she'll never be able to protect anyone."_

_Elsa cringes and fights the urge to cover her ears, but she stops herself because its true. Oh, is it ever true._

"_Excellent work," his voice sounds out behind her, and she glances over her shoulder at the words, but she already knows what she'll see, and she's right. The scowling magic teacher who always has a displeased frown flickering around his lips is almost smiling, leaning down over a brown haired young man with a strong jaw and sharp eyes who has clearly finished mixing the elixir. Even though Elsa can tell that there was something off about the colour, at least he didn't shatter the vial. It was automatically better work. _

_She wasn't jealous though. Well, not of the attention. If anything, she was jealous of the boy's ability to control his power, unlike her. She couldn't even mix a simple elixir without making something explode. Everyone has always told her to control it, and she tries so hard, but there's just so much power running through her, always bristling just below the surface and shimmering across the expanse of her skin. No matter how powerful she is, it means nothing unless she can control it. She's dangerous and useless until she learns how to control it. _

"_Thank you," the boy responds, shooting Elsa a fleeting smirk, smugness emanating from him. Their magic teacher should tell him how to mix the elixir properly, tell him that it's not potent enough and it wouldn't give the desired effect, but he's his favourite and he doesn't seem to care about teaching him more. If he didn't hate her so much, she would show the boy herself, but he glares at her if she even attempts to speak to him. He knows she is better than him, and the only advantage he has is that he can control his magic. The jealousy goes both ways, so she just ducks her head and turns back to her table, cradling her injured hand to her chest. It's the same thing every day. She wishes she was better at this, she wishes she had the ability to harness and control the ice that collects in a tempest in her veins. She wishes it didn't pour out of her with too much velocity, that she could bend it to her will. Instead, she just has this wild beast writhing inside of her, with no way to temper it, and she wants to tear the magic out of her skin, pick it apart. She wants to examine every corner of it, to understand why there is just _so much, _and maybe then, she will understand why she's stuck with it. _

_But she can't, so she'll come here tomorrow and all the days after that, and do the same thing, always wishing she had it in her to be a real enchantress._

* * *

Chapter 10 – Anna

Losing Balance

* * *

"Elsa, I really don't think I can do this," I called out nervously, clutching my cloak tightly around me with one hand as the other clumsily tried to tie the laces of my skates. The strings kept slipping out of my grasp, my mittens making it beyond difficult to make a simple knot.

When I had barged into Elsa's room that morning, full of unbridled energy and the desire to do something with my only friend, I had declared that we would do absolutely anything Elsa wanted today. I hadn't expected what she said after a few moments of confused questions like, _really? Are you _sure_? _After I had managed to convince her, her face lit up in this smile that could only be described as childlike in its excitement, and before I knew it I was being dragged alone through the snow encrusted courtyard with my hand entwined in Elsa's. She lead me through the gazebo, down the path between the great weeping willow trees, under the great arch that lead into the abandoned gardens, until we reached the center. A huge pond. A huge, frozen pond. Elsa just pointed, that look still in her eyes as she said one word: _skating_. And that was it, I was forced into the treacherous activity, which was essentially balancing on a precarious sheet of solid water on thin slivers of metal that offered absolutely no stability. I mean, I was with an ice magician. But, still.

Elsa, who had been moments before on the other side of the pond, lazily gliding across the smooth surface of the ice, was suddenly leaning over me with a bemused grin on her lips. It's so foreign on her face that for a second when I look up, I'm startled, but then the moment passes and I shrug up at her with a sheepish grin of my own. "I can't seem to get my skates tied."

Elsa shook her head fondly, that little smile still plastered on her face as she knelt down. "It's really not that hard, you know."

"Uh, yeah I know. I mean, I could've tied the skates on my own… eventually. I was actually referring to skating in general."

Elsa raised one eyebrow at me and gave me a curious look. "Oh?"

"Uh, yeah. I haven't skated for…" I trailed off with a shrug, indicating that it had been so long that I couldn't even guess.

"I'll teach you."

"I'll fall!"

"I'll catch you."

"What if I hurt you?"

Elsa frowned sarcastically at me for that question, and I just shrugged again. "Yeah, I know you're such a tough, mighty warrior and all that, but that doesn't protect you from my clumsiness."

She scoffed with another shake of her head, and stood up with lithe grace, not seeming at all unsteady or unbalanced on the blades of her skates. She reached out one hand towards me, her mouth quirked up in that small smile. "I'll be fine. Come on, you said we could do anything I want today."

"I didn't think this would be it!" I exclaimed, gesturing widely as I glared at her half-heartedly, crossing my arms.

That didn't discourage her one bit, she could probably tell I was mostly teasing, and she leapt forward to wrap a hand gently around my wrist and tugged me to my feet. "Just try," she murmured softly as she led me, stumbling, to the edge of the frozen over pond. "I'll help you."

I gave her a doubtful glance, but my shoulders relaxed in defeat and the resistance faded out of me with a sigh as I allowed myself to be pulled onto the ice, which was coated in flecks of snow that glimmered in the midday sunlight. I was almost completely sure that this would end in some kind of injury on my part, but when Elsa had excitedly exclaimed that she wanted to go skating, the excited expression in her eyes was so intense that there was no way I could say no. Of course Elsa wanted to skate, she loved ice and there was a perfectly good pond on the property just waiting for our resident magician to use it. How could I say no?

Despite my impending doom, I didn't regret it. It was worth it for that look on Elsa's face.

It was even worth the fact that I was instantly stumbling as soon as I got on the ice, skates sliding out from under me as I clutched Elsa's hand.

"Whoa!" she laughed reaching out an arm to steady me, her fingers tightening against mine and the other hand coming up to grip my waist. I clutched at her forearms tightly, my fingers gouging into the thin material of her sleeve as I attempted to regain my balance.

I gave her my brightest grin as I released my grip and straightened up, blowing a strand of hair that had fallen from one of my braids to hang in front of my eyes. "I'm okay," I assured her breathlessly, my hands splayed out in front of me as if it would actually help me stand up straight. "You and your magic will protect me, right?"

I was watching her face, the way her smooth features were curved into a smile that reached her eyes, so I saw the exact moment that the expression fell and faded into a kind of surprised, pinched frown. Her arms dropped to her sides, and her eyes were suddenly glistening with the same kind of frigid shine as the ice beneath them. Her full lips that were just moments ago pulled into a soft smile, were dragged down at the corners by heavy, invisible weights, just enough that I could tell that something had suddenly become very, very wrong.

I could practically feel the shutters closing around her, the warmth that I had slowly been chipping out of her disappearing in an instant. She was cold, she was magic, she was ice, and in that moment, she looked like she would shove me away if I tried to come anywhere near her.

"Elsa," I began shakily, hoping that I was imagining things and nothing was wrong. It was just my imagination, and Elsa would smile again in a moment and all this would melt away like every time she smiled. "What's wrong?"

She shook her head in sharp movements, and already she was reaching for me, fingers curled around my wrist, not roughly but firm enough for me to know that this wasn't a simple gesture. She was dragging me along behind her then, her loose braid swishing through the air as her angered movements spurred her forward.

"Elsa, what did I do? I'm sorry, whatever it is –"

"You didn't do anything, Anna," she ground out through gritted teeth, "I've just changed my mind. No skating."

"But Elsa, you were so excited!"

"I said I changed my mind."

"But why? Was it something I said? I'm sorry, Elsa, I'm your friend, you can tell me…"

Elsa gave a sharp, bitter laugh at that and spun around again, expression smooth, stoic. There was something unsettling about the way her eyes were narrowed just slightly, and her lips were pressed into a thin, tight line, but I couldn't come up with a precise reason for why. "This has nothing to do with you, Anna."

"But you just got mad so suddenly Elsa!"

"It wasn't you. Nothing is wrong, I just don't want to skate. I will see you tomorrow for training."

With that curt, icy response she spun around, slinging her hood over her blonde plaid as she sped away, leaving me there, dazed and confused at whatever had just happened. I watched her as she stopped a distance away to unlace her skates and shove her feet into her boots. I watched as she straightened, and picked up her pace, picking her way across the courtyard until she turned a corner and she was gone.

It wasn't until that night, after I had peeled my clothes, unwound my braids and climbed into my bed that I realized something. Curled under the sheets, shivering against the faint warmth that didn't do much against the coolness of the room, I realized with a gasp into the empty dark of my room where I had seen that hauntingly familiar expression on her face.

The hard, guarded eyes that glittered like cold crystal were familiar because it was the expression I had seen on the first night we had met, the one she had when hacking away mercilessly at the thugs who attacked me. She had softened her expression when she looked to me, her frown smoothing into something more cordial, less frightening. Today though, she had fixed me with that icy glare, the same gleam of angry distrust that made me want to hold her tightly against me and chase away whatever demons were traipsing around in her mind.

Suddenly my chest hurt, and my eyes were squeezed shut as I felt a sensation of hanging on the edge of a precipice, losing balance, dizzy and lightheaded. Elsa made me feel like I was staring into the bottom of oblivion, and yet she was the only one I trusted to catch me if I fell.

I fell asleep to the painful question nagging at my mind; _what could I have done to Elsa to make her look at me like that? _


	11. Elsa - Forty Two

**A/N:** Flashbacks are all consecutive (starting with the one in chapter 10), exploring the time leading up to a major event in Elsa's life five years prior to meeting Anna.

* * *

Chapter 11 - Elsa

Forty Two

* * *

It took me exactly forty two days after meeting Anna to realize that I was maddeningly, deeply in love with her.

She fell into my arms in the most cliche way possible, and my heart stopped and the world sped up under my feet, and all I could see was the curve of her lips and the stark redness of her hair against the cold backdrop of ice and snow that surrounded us.

I realized it with a handful of my clumsy, trusting and enthusiastic protege who was staring up at me through her long eyelashes, freckled cheeks creased in that smile I had begun to find myself absolutely adoring with every part of me. She was looking up at me with the same kind of assurance and complete that I saw when I was teaching her how to properly handle a longsword, fingers tight and brows drawn even tighter in concentration. She took it so seriously, she loved every movement I taught her, executing the moves with a kind of grace that I wouldn't have expected from the clumsy young woman I had come to know. Yet, despite that unexpected lithe grace, all of it had melted away as soon as she stepped on the ice, folding into herself as she stumbled into my arms, where I held her tighter than necessary, desperate to make sure she was okay.

She made me desperate in all kinds of ways.

I was desperate for her late night visits, the glint of her smile over the brim of her cup as we shared a secret joke unknown to her uncle who was sitting right there. I was desperate for her soft, sleep deprived voice as she drifted off with her warmth curled against me, and the way she laughed with her whole body, clutching her stomach and letting the sounds of merriment bubble out of her. I was desperate for everything that was her.

And I was a tempest, a storm. I was rage and fury and ice, and I was dangerous. I had learned that long ago the hard way, and every time I thought of that I felt waved of pain rippling through me. I had a past riddled with gaping holes I'd stuffed full of forgetting, and now that Anna was here, and I knew I loved her, I felt them creeping up to rear up their ugly heads and destroy the ray of sunshine that was her.

When the word _protect_ came out of her mouth, it was as if a painful jolt of agony ripped through me, and a hard voice echoed in my mind.

_She'll never be able to protect anyone._

It took me exactly forty two days to know I was in love with her, and it took me less than ten seconds to know that it was the worst thing possible that I could have ever done to her.

My solution, of course, was to avoid her.

I stopped coming to meals with her, I started locking my door when I went to sleep to make sure that she wouldn't come knocking and crawl under my blankets with me. I stopped waiting for her to seek me out for mid afternoon adventures on the grounds, and during training sessions I was curt and cordial with her. No matter how many times she prodded for information; worried, curious and probing eyes digging into me so much that I would have to turn away and say something dismissive enough to make her back away. Still, she didn't give up, and every time I saw the way her eyes would cloud over with hurt every time I shoved her away I wanted to freeze myself over with my cursed magic. I refused to meet her eyes, I didn't speak to her unless it was necessary. I shoved her out of my life quickly and efficiently.

It took weeks for her to finally give up, to stop asking. Her efforts faded from persistent worry, to impatient concern, to fleeting, hurt glances that drifted my way when she thought I wasn't paying attention.

I was always paying attention.

If only she knew that every time she turned away from me with that pained expression, I wanted to reach out to her and hold her to me and tell her how important she was to me, how I wanted to protect her in the only foolproof way I could think of; keeping her as far away as possible.

The last time we really, truly spoke, was a week after the moment I realized my infatuation with her extended far beyond friendship. She intercepted me while I had escaped from the confines of those walls that held the object of my affections. I was sitting on a bench underneath a tree that drooped with weary branches weighed down by the weight of the snow that had fallen the night before. She came up behind me silently as I sat, but I still heard her. Or, rather, I was aware of her presence before she spoke.

"Elsa?"

I closed my eyes for a moment and drew in a deep, unsteady breath at the sound of her soft voice before answering curtly.

"Yes, Anna?"

She didn't answer right away, just slid onto the bench beside me after brushing away the slight dusting of snow that coated the wood. She sat with her hands folded in her lap, lost in thought as I waited anxiously for her to speak again.

Finally, her voice again. Shaky, vulnerable, and so hurt it broke my heart. "You've been avoiding me."

I swallowed the lump in my throat before answering. "I haven't."

"Yes," she insisted, "you haven't spoken to me for... a long time."

"I've been busy."

"You weren't busy like this before we went skating that day. What's going on, Elsa?"

"Nothing," I grunted, a hard edge in my voice. "I don't have to tell you everything."

"Of course you don't," she conceded with a fleeting look in my direction, before she dropped her eyes to her hands where they lay in her lap.

Silence, for an agonizing minute, hour, I couldn't tell. Then she spoke, and it was worse than the silence.

"What did I do to make you hate me?" she inquired in a quiet, obviously heart broken voice. I felt something inside of me crack, and in an instant I was on my feet, knowing that if I stayed right beside her I would have her in my arms in an instant, my face buried in her hair as I reassured her that I could never, ever hate her.

Instead I stood with my back to her as I spat out lies, harsh words meant to pierce and twist in the wounds. "Nothing Anna, not everything is about you."

"I didn't say that-"

"You're assuming whatever is going on with me has to do with you, when it doesn't. So please stop asking. I can't..." my voice broke on the last word, and I raised a hand to my lips, thankful that she couldn't see my face because tears were blurring my vision, and my lips were twisted into a grimace. After a moment that felt like an eternity I continued. "I can't tell you anything."

"I thought we were friends."

_You are the only friend I've had in years._

"I thought I was important to you."

_You are so, so important._

"I thought you cared about me."

_I _love_ you._

I ached to have her close, but I ached for her safety more. My past was dark and spun with anger and regret, and I wanted nothing more than to keep Anna away from it, even if keeping her kindness at bay killed me. So I didn't respond to any of this, and eventually she sighed with a voice so broken and sad I cringed, and she walked away, taking a piece of me with her as she left.

It took forty two days for me to fall in love with her, and even less to break her heart.

* * *

_**Five years ago**_

_Elsa flexes her stiff fingers experimentally, her back tensed as she leaned over her work, a simple spell brewing in a pot in front of her. Tired eyes are glancing over at the worn book of potions beside her as she flicks lazily through the pages, eyes skimming the words as she waits. _

_She's been down here for hours, so when she finally hears the hiss and crackle that indicates that her work is finished, she all but shoves the book aside and leaps forward. Eagerly, she peers down into the cauldron, ice crystals forming immediately around her hands where they rest on the table in the midst of her excitement. _

_"Master Weselton, I think its working," she exclaims over her shoulder, beckoning to the slumped over figure that sits silently reading at a desk in a dark corner. He waves a hand at her dismissively, and she ignores the pang of disappointment in her stomach, and turns back to the dark blue liquid that is making pleasant little popping noises as bubbles float delicately to the surface to burst, emitting bursts of fragrance into the air around her.  
_

_"Master, come here, I think I've figured out the potion I was having trouble with-" _

_She's cut off with a sharp intake of breath that says more than if he had screamed at her the way he did with his head held high as he snapped at her through clenched teeth, eyes glaring at her over the glasses that slipped down his nose._

_That little noise is enough to make her remember how useless she is to him, how she is nothing compared to the smug boy with the pretty face and mediocre skills. She is powerful and clumsy, and he is unskilled but he is not dangerous. _

_He favors him because he knows that unlike Elsa, he couldn't accidentally send a dagger of ice into his heart._

_Elsa is dangerous, and she will spend every moment of every day remembering that. Every small feat, every small victory will be tinged with the bitter taste of knowing she was a threat. She could hurt everyone she loved most, and that scared her more than anything in the whole world._


End file.
